“If you can’t remain calm now, what makes you think you’re anywhere near prepared for the future.” The end of my driveway approached, and Lily took in the sight of the multiple vehicles outside. Her frown grew when she caught a hint of my hesitation. “My grandma thinks every potential politician should have a Listener. They’re experts at keeping cool.”

“They’re also experts at being crazy, and your grandma is kinda crazy. Doesn’t she think most fantasy books are bougie, Full-human wish-fulfillment and actively calls for their destruction,” I said.

“Oh c'mon, you'd go crazy too if the wind carried the voices of the past and present straight into your friggin' ear. And you're one to talk about book criticisms, Yandel." She scoffed. "I happen to agree with her on the bougie-ness part. Magic is pay-walled in Full-human stories. There aren't private schools for magic. Isn't that the most capitalistic think you've ever heard? Sucks the inclusive tradition and values right out of witchcraft.”

I didn’t point out the fact that a lot of witches, including herself, were glad to keep Full-humans away, aka exclude them. Arguing with Lily always led us down winding roads, and right then, I needed to focus on the one we were currently walking on.

My dad’s front door was open, but I could hear the happy chatter inside from the visitors, indicating that the entrance was left that way for a reason. Lily stepped inside first, and I followed right after, patting down my shirt and running a finger over the buttons. Both of us had changed before heading out, but I’d done a rush job.

“You're fine. I fixed the collar during the ride," she said. "You’re a bit wrinkly though.”

“Great.” I raised my chin. “Something smells weird.”

Our tiny beige home didn’t seem like the kind of place for large gatherings, and it wasn’t. I could see, walking down the corridor that met the entrance, that a lot of the bulkiest decor had been removed, and in order to create the illusion of more space, my dad had framed a mirror on one of the walls. 

Up ahead, Haze Fitzgerald tucked the wooden sculpture of a deer my dad usually kept in the backyard into a broom closet.

“Hi, Haze.”

“Sup, Haze.”

Although his beard hardly showed it, we could tell he was smiling. Haze was a kind-hearted sorcerer who used to work as a ranger for Sam Houston National Forest. He was also one of my dad’s firmest supporters. Under the scrutiny of other casters, he collaborated closely with my father in order to create a more effective way of monitoring seasonal hunters in the woods. All around, Haze was a good dude.

“Hey kids," he drawled, "I was just helping with the furniture. It’s ‘bout time you showed up. You’re gonna love what Emilio has in store for y'all.” I caught a glimpse into the broom closet before he closed it. It looked like my dad decided to relocate the entirety of the backyard.

“Anything we need to know before we go inside?” Lily asked.

He huffed without hesitating. “Telesuper and Hex have been doing their darndest to pry information from your dad. If they start asking you questions that don’t concern you, tell Jeremy and Gonzalo to throw them out.”

"Wow."

“That seems like a bit much,” I said. My dad’s bodyguards were rarely necessary for these kinds of situations.

“You'd think, huh?” He replied with a grunt, “Each channel sent one reporter, and neither knows how to behave. One idiot tried to take a plastic chair and mold it into something 'more comfortable', and the other keeps flirting with the caterer’s daughter. The disrespect.”

Yeah, sounded about right.

Lily pursed her lips. If there was anyone who disliked the out-of-touch way sorcerer's behaved in non-sorcerer households, it was her. “Let’s go. Thanks, Haze.”

“Houser might be lurking about. Stay away from him too,” he added. 

We agreed, left him in the hallway and entered the living room.

“When is Gregory Houser not lurking about?” I quipped. “He’s a total — crêpe. Dude, that’s what the smell was.” I broke my train of thought and walked towards a table lined with blue cloth showcasing a thorough selection of savory meals. Crêpes, steak, coagulated liver blood (a lot tastier than it sounds, though Marcel wouldn't agree). My stomach gave a pleased grumble, unintentional, of course.

Lily picked up a strawberry coated in chocolate. “Focus. Everyone’s in your backyard.” She bit and chewed but refrained from grabbing anything else. I had forgotten that she skipped school to accompany me. We hadn't had lunch, and I was willing to bet she'd foregone breakfast in the morning to take her sister Mitsy to school.

The sliding door that led out of the living room and into the yard was open, white netting hung from it, preventing bugs from infiltrating the house. I’m sure if we had had the budget, we could have orchestrated this meeting somewhere nicer. Somewhere that wasn’t my childhood home.

Outside, a white canopy hung over gray plastic chairs and a portable stage. Lots of primmed backers and reporters were shielded from the afternoon sun. Before them, my dad was in the midst of a spiel, and the strangers watching him held up their recorders, and periodically their cameras, in his direction.

Lily emerged from the living room first. The slight glances her way turning into intense observations as I followed up behind.

“Let’s wait it out in the back,” I said nervously.

“But Houser might approach us.” We bumped into each other when she paused to nod in the direction of a tall, middle-aged man with a Brad Pitt stash.

First Mayor Cathrow and now Gregory Houser. I rolled my eyes. Conferences really had a way of attracting the scummiest suits in the underground.

“Let him." I sniffed. "We make it clear that our parents don’t want or need his blood money.”

Houser was a notorious loan shark. He loved getting his posh hands into the policies of his debt-ridden beneficiaries

“Or the millions of strings that come attached.” Lilith led on.

With the eyes of the strangers peeling away from us, we sat next to each other and listened in. Luckily, the chilly wind from the early morning was gone, making the 30 minutes that went by bearable. The last row of empty chairs made a good place to zone out, but both of us sat rigidly through it all, listening to the vague details of my dad's platform: the inclusion of Full-human officials into our proceedings, an immediate law making the hunting of Supers illegal, and some basic sensitivity training for both Full-human and underworld children. 

The pre-pre avowal bill. These were details that anyone, including someone who wasn't so involved with him, could figure out.

Lily crossed her arms over her belly. "So nothing miraculous. Your dad isn't impressing anyone so far."

"Just wait for it. I don't know what it is, but I know my dad always has at least one it."

And I was right.