Page 76 of Impractical Magic

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Violet sat on a stone bench in the back garden, jabbing angrily at her phone.

Polly emerged from the dining room, with the Melroses close behind.

“Violet.” Her mother’s voice was firm, but her eyes held a pleading softness. “We need to talk.”

“Don’t feel like it.” The teenager refused to look up.

Polly stepped closer, her voice rising. “I know you’ve been up to something with that . . . that magician.”

“He’s my friend—so?! What, am I not allowed to have friends now? Thanks a lot, fascist.”

“As it happens, no,” Polly retorted. “You’re not allowed to have friends who are twice your age and magicians. And what about the dragonflies?”

“What about them?”

“Where did they come from? Scarlett found a cage of flies in Max’s room. But we very much doubt he could have conjured them himself seeing as he has no genuine magical powers. Violet, did you help him create the files?”

The teenager kept her head low, focused on her phone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Polly sat down beside her daughter. With a swift and well-practiced motion, she reached over and wrenched the phone right out of Violet’s hands. Holding the device up like a threat, she said, “Don’t you lie to me. Did you help the magicians?”

Violet remained silent, her eyes fixed on her lap.

The rest of the witches had all gathered behind the Melroses to listen. Their expressions ran from motherly disappointment to white-hot rage . . . but none could bear to miss a word.

Polly could feel the group’s judgment without needing to look at them. “I can handle this,” she snapped. “This is my daughter, and she doesn’t deserve to be interrogated by half the town.”

Mama Melrose held up her hands in a placating gesture. “We don’t mean to intrude, Polly. But at the same time, this affects all of us.”

Polly returned her attention to Violet, taking her daughter’s hands in her own. “Please, sweetheart. Talk to me. Did the magicians trick you somehow? It’s what they do, Violet—we can all understand making a mistake. But we need you to be honest with us now. The town depends on it.”

Under her mother’s gentle but persistent questioning, Violet’s defenses crumbled. Tears welled up in her eyes as she finally spoke. “They’re nice to me.” Her voice trembled. “They treat me like a grown-up. They said if I could help them with a bit of magic, they’d make things better. That the dragonflies would make Oak Haven more like a normal town. And then maybe I could have a boyfriend. Maybe Dad would come home. They said they could make everything better . . .”

“Oh, Violet.” Polly was clearly heartbroken. “How could you?”

“You don’t understand!” Years of anger and frustration came pouring out. “You have no idea what it’s like. To have my whole life ruined by that stupid Forgetting Spell. My own dad doesn’t remember I exist! I don’t even have any friends! How could I? I can’t have friends in Oak Haven—everyone who sees me says, look, there’s the weird girl whose father poisoned the grove. But if I try to make a friend from outside of town, they forget me. You don’t know what it’s like to always be alone!”

Violet stood, her hands clenched into fists. “I just want a normal life!”

She ran for the inn, shoving her way past the witches and bursting into the dining room. Her chest heaving with sobs, she collapsed into a chair, burying her face in her hands. The witches followed her inside, their expressions grim.

Suddenly the air in the room began to shimmer and ripple, like the surface of a pond disturbed by a stone. The walls melted away—but instead of glitching to Waikiki or Studio 54, the dining room glitched to reflect the inside of Violet’s broken heart.

The witches found themselves standing in a cozy living room decorated with jack-o’-lanterns and grinning paper skeletons. Warmth and happiness radiated from every corner as a young Violet twirled in a fairy princess costume. Her face was lit with joy as she showed off her sparkly wings to a smiling Polly and Bill.

Too soon, the scene shifted. The room grew dark and cold, festive decorations replaced by shadows and gloom. Polly and Bill were fighting, their voices loud and accusing. Bill stormed out, slamming the door so hard that the witches flinched. Little Violet ran to the door and threw it open, sobbing and pleading for Daddy to come back.

Scarlett leaned over to whisper to Luna. “Who’s doing this? Is it Violet?”

Luna nodded. “Her emotions have gotten away from her, and the dining room is responding.”

“We should help her somehow.”

“I disagree.” Mama leaned over to put one arm on each of her daughter’s shoulders. “Let’s let this play out. See what she knows.”

The memory changed once more, and the witches found themselves standing in downtown Oak Haven, outside Spellbound Books. Violet, now a teenager, smiled as a handsome young man handed her a bag from the Happy Panda. The witches’ hearts fluttered along with Violet’s as the young man paused to chat. All along the street, window boxes burst with flowers, all blooming at once.