Page 121 of How to Flirt with a Witch

They wait with rapt attention, and if I’m not mistaken, the next picnic table of witches on a coffee break has gone quiet.

Apparently, all it took was getting attacked by the Madsen dog to get people to take an interest in me around here.

“I’m not sure yet if I’m allowed to talk about that.” I offer a kind smile to cover up my wariness of sharing anything I’m not supposed to. Again. “But when I find out what I can share, you’ll be the first to know.”

This must satisfy them because they exchange a conspiratorial grin.

Though I’d bet my laptop that if Fiona wants to talk to me about yesterday, I’ll end up even more disgruntled than I am now.

Sebastian’s wife, Millie, walks past and comes to an abrupt stop, her eyes widening at my exposed ankle. “God, it’s true. How are you feeling?”

“Doing okay. Thanks.”

A couple of days ago, I was invisible to everyone here. Now, the sudden interest—but not for reasons I’d hoped. I’m more of a curiosity than a part of their community.

Dammit, here CSAMM is treating me like an outsider and a spectacle, while Freddie has given me all the information I ask for and an offer to join his team—hisfamily. This is backwards.

Millie turns to the kids. “Shouldn’t you two be studying? Don’t make me tell your mom.”

The kids look at each other and bolt.

Millie must be in her mid-twenties, but there’s a heaviness about her—a gauntness in her cheeks and fine lines around herblue eyes. She frowns at my injury. “Doctor Sharma will have you back to normal in no time. She’s good at her job.”

“I guess everybody here must know her well by this point.”

“Some of us more than others.” Millie sighs. “She’s supported me through chemo. I have to go up to thereal worldfor treatment, but there’s nothing like having a doctor living a few doors down from you.”

My heart squeezes for her. “I’m sorry to hear. I hope your treatment is going well.”

She smiles bravely. “Time will tell.”

Guilt hits me for not knowing what was going on in Sebastian’s life in all the times we’ve interacted. He hides his pain well.

Millie frowns at my ankle, something working behind her eyes. I feel it in her presence—suffering beyond anything I understand.

“Anyway, I wish you a speedy recovery,” she says.

“Thanks.”

I can’t help recalling the glance Natalie and Doctor Sharma exchanged when I mentioned using magic to heal me. Worse than my injured ankle, it hurts knowing Millie’s illness can’t be fixed. Natalie wouldn’t elaborate, but maybe someone else will.

“It’s too bad magic can’t be used for healing,” I add.

Millie looks at me sharply, then averts her eyes to the koi pond. The look was fleeting, but it’s too late to change that it happened.

There’s something I don’t know.

“Nobody’s ever tried it?” I press.

Her gaze travels over my stuff sprawled across the picnic table. She hovers her palm over my psychology textbook, and slowly, the coffee-stained pages return to normal.

“Ah, thanks,” I say.

She moves her hand over my ankle as if about to fix that too, but of course, nothing happens.

“It’s criminal, really, that they let us suffer,” she murmurs.

My heart beats faster. “There’s a way to do it?”