I'd been attacked by a shade, Mamà was taken, possibly hurt, and Dad was effectively incarcerated. But I cried because Fox yelled at me for cooking him chicken.

Burro.

His heavy footfalls came up the stairs, and I scrubbed my face with my blanket. I waited for him to knock or barge in, but after a long wait, I huffed and opened the door to him holding a plate of day-old vegetarian paella and tofu out to me, his lips tense. He didn't even know how to smile.

Grudgingly I took it, returning to my bed. His eyes caught on my face, probably red and puffy from crying. Slowly, he took two deliberate steps into my room, sock feet softly thumping on the dark hardwood floor I'd only half cleared, hands jammed awkwardly into jean pockets.

"I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I'm no good at..." he searched for a word, his shoulders reaching for his ears.

"Sugarcoating things?"

"Yeah, I guess." A breath whooshed out of him, in relief that I understood. "Look, you're vegetarian, so cook vegetarian, and I'll be fine. If I want meat, I can go out there and feed on the next thing that walks by."

Gross!

Frowning as I set my plate down, he sat on the windowsill my desk used to be in front of, a halo of late evening light washing over him. "Right. You're not used to... Anyway, I shouldn't have said all that earlier."

"No." I swallowed down a lump of tofu and picked at my blue-purple comforter, poking my finger into a hole to feel the fluff inside. "You were right. I always do that. It's stupid, but it's like I need to make others happy. I love the water, but I've never been to a beach of any kind because it was easier than worrying my parents over my safety. And my hair... it's long because Chloe said she'd never talk to me again if I cut it. I love purple and I wanted to dye it, but Dad was against it, so I let it go. I'm always doing that."

When I looked up, his greyish-blue eyes were intense but sympathetic. "So stop. Do what you want."

"Okay." I could dream, couldn't I? "I want to go to the beach."

"No." The rigid bodyguard returned, and my joke fell flat. "You should probably wait until after we've dealt with the people trying to kill you."

"I still don't understand why I can't just tell everyone I don't have the stone or whatever." It was unlikely Dad took it, but I'd be his last choice for hiding it.

"Because, the point is to keep you alive."

Oh. I buried my face into my stuffed magenta monkey; it had been torn open by the intruders, I would need to fix it.

"Do you think my mom is okay?"

"They would need her aliv—"

The bell rang, sending me airborne, my heart thundering at a familiar worry-laden voice calling my name. More relieved than I should have been, I practically tumbled downstairs.

"Oh my Gawd, Vesper!" Chloe launched the second the door was partially open. "Are you okay? They said some guy grabbed a girl in the hive and then no one knew where you were!"

I wanted to vent everything to her. All of it. But my living room was alarming and Chloe was not the type to believe in magic and monsters. She would have me committed. As I floundered for words, Fox's body was suddenly right behind mine. "Who is it?"

Sweet Churro! Chloe was pure delight as her eyes dragged down his body. Her worry melted instantly so she didn't even notice how harsh he sounded, like he was ready to fling her off my porch.

"Oh! Hel-lo! Who's this, Vesper?" Then, as if Fox wasn't standing close enough to share the same airspace as me, she whispered loudly, "Is he the hottie from the library? You weren't kidding when you said he was y—!"

"Fox, this is my best friend, Chloe." Fox glowered at her, and my blush went unnoticed. "Chloe, Fox. Walter hired him."

"Oh." Like a balloon deflating, her disappointment was palpable. "So, you're not coming out tonight. I can stay here, if you want. We can watch a movie, get takeout? Maybe the bodyguard can do a liquor run for us?"

Fox was unamused, watching Chloe like he expected her to burst into a shadowy beast.

"Nah, Chlo. You go, have fun. Tell everyone hi for me."

"Alright. If you're sure." Hugging me, she pinned Fox with a narrow look. "You're going to control everything she does, aren't you?"

I felt the ground fall out from under me; I didn't need her fighting with my security after the day I'd had. But Fox didn't rise to it, his only reaction a clenched jaw and fingers tightening on the doorknob as she left. He slammed the door after her, waiting a moment before asking, "Why didn't you just let her think she was right?"

"Chlo knows all about my life. This isn't the first time Dad's sent security." I shrugged, nudging the flipped white couch in the living room with my foot. "Whenever he faces some unhinged opposition in court, I need protection."

He was unsurprised by my revelation, but something I said perplexed him. "So she's knows your dad is—" He asked, his body filling the entry of the living room.

"A lawyer for sorcerers? No!" I laughed, kicking around the multitude of blue cushions Mamà and I collected. "Chlo wouldn't believe me."

"What?" I asked, hearing his amused grunt.

"Chloe's a witch."

"She's...a..." words, which always were a strong point, were evading me.

"Witch," he supplied, watching me carefully. "You gonna tell her you know?"

"No." Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. She had her reasons for not telling me, and I was sure they were good. I tried to imagine myself asking her about it, and every version of the conversation that happened in my head in those two minutes, ended with her mad at me. No, I'd never bring it up.

Fox nodded, satisfied. He picked a picture off the floor, kicking broken glass aside; Mamà, Chloe and I. "She thinks your dad's a regular lawyer?"

"Yeah." I sniffed as he stopped swimming in my vision.

"Good." He said as he went back upstairs, "She doesn't know who you are."

"Who am I?" I asked his back as he zipped the overstuffed wheelie bag on my floor and picked it up.

His cursory glance around my room was avoidance. "You need anything else? We need to go."

As I grabbed the monkey on my bed, something in the mess on the floor caught my eye, a purple gift box. One that hadn't been there that morning. "Huh. How did this get here?"

"What is it?" Fox eyed the box I picked up and jammed in my purse.

"It's from Dad." I followed him out to his car, as I settled into it, I asked again, "Who am I, Fox?"

He held my gaze for a minute, and I could see behind the twilight specks in his clear eyes, that he thought he was about to upend my world again. "Your dad isn't a lawyer. He's the Grand High Water Sorcerer."

I blinked at him. That's who Dad worked for. What he'd always told me. But, I guess it made more sense that I'd need a bodyguard as the non-magic daughter of a powerful sorcerer, than as the daughter of a boring lawyer. I understood Fox calling me Little Witch. Dad staying away all this time to protect me from what he did, suddenly made way more sense. What didn't was—knowing everything he'd told me about who he worked for—Dad stealing the stone he was meant to protect with his life.

"Do you think he did it?" I asked my hands.

"Don't matter what I think. A shade's opinion don't matter to sorcerers."

"What happens to him now?" The words were thin, mere air pushing past my lips, but somehow he heard what I said despite the car roaring to life.

"My guess, Minou? They expel him. Take his powers."