I was sure this was going to end badly for someone and just hoped it wasn't us. That's why I found myself dragging my feet on my way out of the dining room and down the hall. A small parlor furnished with heavy, antique chairs and a massive black stone fireplace was barely large enough to hold us all. Mom and Odette dominated the center with Quaid between them, with the rest of us plastered out of the way against the walls.
Dad stood to my right, his hand reaching for mine, what I'm sure he thought was a comforting look on his face. But I wasn't some kid to be placated and head patted and told there, there, dear. I knew the stakes.
By challenging Odette's control over Quaid, Mom not only exposed herself, but the entire family and the core of magic that made us who we were. My only comfort was the fact Odette did the same, and I was certain Mom was stronger.