Tell Abbie she can try, but being a mage is rare.

“What makes you think you can cast any spells, Sis?” you ask Abbie. “The website says that the ability is incredibly rare. What are the odds of two people in the same house both having it?”

“It also says there’s a genetic component. That means my odds are higher, Beanpole,” Abbie replies, “Didn’t you pay attention in Bio?” She smirks at you. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt to try. Hmmm… Maybe I’ll try the Blessing of Aphrodite and make myself super-hot,” she says, looking through the list and clicking.

“Right. Because you’re so hideous that you need magic to look good,” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. You point to a line of text on the screen. “It says it can make you conceited and narcissistic. You’d be even more impossible to live with.”

“It would take weeks to take effect anyway,” she sighs. “It looks like the only way that I’d know right away whether a spell works is to go into Mom’s dreams.”

You shrug. “Like you said, it doesn’t hurt to try. Don’t be too upset if it doesn’t work,” you tell her. “And don’t do it when you have to get up and work the day shift the next day. It’s like staying up all night.”

“Well, I’m taking the day off tomorrow to celebrate being done with college. No time like the present,” she says, clicking back to the Journey of Morpheus spell. “It says I need something Mom has held to cast it.”

“OK, good luck with that,” you say a little dismissively since you still think there’s no chance it will work for her. You grab the jars of herbs. “I’ve still got to use the health blessing on Ms. Fellows and myself, then I’m getting some sleep.”

As you go back to your room, Abbie goes into the bathroom and grabs Mom's toothbrush. You cast the Aegle spell twice. As soon as you finish, you collapse in your bed and fall right into a sound sleep.

The next morning, a night’s sleep has cleared your mind a little. As you eat a quick breakfast, you realize that you didn’t set up some way for Emily to meet you and drive you to her place after school. It occurs to you that you should get a secure messaging app to communicate with Emily secretly. You forgot to even get her number, so you are going to have to ask Abbie to drive you to her house again or ride your bike. You check the clock. If you hurry, you can bike to school on time. That way, you don't have to come home to get your bike, you can leave directly from school to go to Emily’s.

If Mom checks to see if you came straight home from school, you’ll have to make up some excuse, but you’ll have to take that chance. Otherwise, you’ll miss a day with Emily, and you don’t know what will happen then. Tomorrow is Saturday, and getting away from Mom on the weekend is going to be its own problem. Maybe you’ll think of something by then.

You grab your backpack and are about to walk into the garage to get your bike, when you hear your mother yelling, “Abigail Elizabeth Harris!” She sounds as angry as you've ever heard her. Her footsteps are heavy in the hall upstairs. You hear Abbie’s door being thrown open.