When I felt Mom trying to stand, I helped her. I stood next to her as she faced the coven and, more specifically, Batsheva. I tried to feed her but she blocked me, so I stopped. She wavered as she stood there, but her shoulders sat square. She was herself. I couldn't ask for more than that.
"Well?" Batsheva demanded, voice throbbing with emotion. Her face twisted to a mask of grief. I thought she was laying it on a little thick. "Explain yourself! Explain this horror!"
Mom faced her, calm and poised. "I cannot," she said.
A breath rippled through the coven, a regret. Batsheva seized it and used it like a weapon.
"You are our leader," she spoke to them as she did to Mom. "You were to keep us safe, protected. This cleansing was your idea! We warned you," she said, "attempting a spell so powerful this close to Samhain was dangerous. But you wouldn't listen!"