Page 19 of A Silenced Midlife

"Hey, it's okay. You did great," Drew cut in, steady and calm.

"Really great," I echoed, avoiding her gaze because, for the life of me, I couldn't remember her name.

"Thank you." She continued nibbling on her nails. "I think I need a cup of tea."

"Good idea. Go relax," I said, motioning toward the door.

She nodded and retreated back into her sanctuary, leaving Drew and me alone outside.

"Ready to go?" Drew asked, his hand warm on my back.

"Definitely ready," I said, eager to leave the chaos behind us.

We walked to Drew's truck in silence. The first few minutes of the drive home were quiet too, until Drew broke the silence.

"We never thought about the tourists, did we?" he said, his hands tight on the steering wheel.

I shook my head. "No, we didn't. We should've put something in place years ago."

"Something that makes them not see the magic or forget it if they do," he suggested, glancing over at me.

I pulled out my phone and started typing a quick message to Olivia and Melody.

Hey, we've got a situation. Tourist saw the magic. We need a way to keep them from finding out about any of this. Can you think of anything?

"Send," I murmured, hitting the button.

Drew nodded as he focused on the road ahead. "Good. They'll figure something out. They always do."

My phone buzzed, and I read Melody's reply out loud. "Melody says she'll get the coven on it and look for another spell."

"See? What'd I tell you? They're on top of it," Drew said with a small smile.

"Yeah," I smiled back with a flicker of relief. "They are."

10

OLIVIA

I had left Ava's place with a clear mission: get the house ready for dinner with my adoptive parents. The whole day had been a blur of scrubbing, tidying, and double-checking every corner of each room until it was just right. I moved through the motions mechanically, set on making the evening as perfect as possible. When it came to cooking, though, I slowed down and took my time. Magic could've done it in a snap, but this needed to be special – Mom's stuffed shells, her recipe, no shortcuts. And garlic bread, from scratch, because nothing else would do. Not tonight.

The living room was quiet except for the occasional shuffle of feet or murmur of voices. Sam, Sammie, Devin, Jessica, and Phira were all there, an assembly of nerves and anticipation. I'd fussed over their outfits like a director prepping actors for an opening night. Sammie, bless his heart, looked like a miniature executive in his suit, while Jessica's face told me she'd rather be wearing anything but that flowery dress.

"Looking sharp." I tried to smile, but the butterflies in my stomach were doing cartwheels.

"Mom, this tie is itchy," Sammie complained, tugging at the silk noose around his neck.

"Keep it on, just a little longer," I pleaded. "Please, baby."

It was almost time. Any minute now...

Lucifer chose that moment to appear, predictably late and unconcerned. He sauntered into the kitchen, eyeing the food with interest. I caught the twinkle in his eye just as he reached for the stuffed shells. Instinctively, I swatted his hand away with the spatula.

"Ouch. That hurt." he said, more surprised than pained.

"Where have you been?" I demanded, trying not to raise my tone too much.

"We had a meeting in Hell. It went long. What?" He brushed off the question, licking his fingertip.

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