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Two

CHIARA

MY mother is always in flight, on witchy jobs as a junior elder of the Council of Magick.

Her missions are dangerous she can't be found lingering in the mundane world or living with non-Magickal loved ones.

She divorced my father to protect him from enemies his wealth could never protect him from.

When I was asked in all honesty where I wanted to live, my father was floored that I chose to be here.

I was thirteen. They never made me feel I was choosing one over the other. I love my mother to death and I share a strong bond with her.

But when it came for me to decide whom I would live with, I spoke very intensely about my wish to live with my father so it would be clear to everyone.

Mom told me she was grateful I made the decision I did. That I understood what her life is going to be like after the divorce and I chose accordingly to adjust gave her the freedom to do her job without guilt. I am one other person she doesn't have to worry about while she goes on her missions. and that is one of my reasons, too.

I knew her other reason is that my father will not be left alone.

And we both love him.

And we both can't live with this.

So I moved with my father to his new, large, penthouse apartment he acquired after the divorce. It turns out really well, despite the fact, our balconies bear all the plants one can acquire in such a space. I love my plants.

My father raises me as best as he can. I enrolled in some of the best private schools the city can offer.

I am smart—no qualms about saying this, since I have smart parents so I am quite relieved to be so.

His wealth gives me many choices and opportunities to become one of the bests in whatever career I pursue.

And I know that even as he sometimes grouses about it, he is happy I like my job. That being content where I am is the most important thing in the world to him.

I know he and my mom have been meeting secretly sometimes. I know they meet when he's somewhere for a business meeting or a vacation. I am glad he and mom can spend time together, despite the complexity of their situation. That's supposedly what love is all about.

"You're thinking about how much I look like mommy again, aren't you?" I tease him when I raise my face and catch him looking at me fondly.

His shoulders shook as he laughs. "Your mother is the most beautiful woman I have ever met and I am grateful your looks came from her than mine."

"And she swears you are the most handsome man she has ever met. Oh god, the sucrose makes me really sick. So heartbreakingly sweet!"

"Oh, sweetie." He is laughing. Then he grimaces. "It is, isn't it?"

"You two should better end up together again when she's done with all the council's shenanigans. Don't look like that, Dad. The council doesn't have ears on our walls. They're not going to piss off Mom like that."

"They don't have to tell anyone what they do," he said, suspiciously.

"They better not do that trick. I know when something magickal is happening in this house. I've spelled it so it'll let me know. Mom taught me."

"She did? When?"

"A while back," I reply. "I haven't seen her in weeks, Daddy. But I'm sure the very next time she's got free time and it's safe, you'll see her."

And... my father blushes because of whatever he's thinking about what they do when they get together.

I think that is too much for me now.

Glancing at my watch, I gulp down the last of my juice and get up from the table. I race around to where my father sits and kisses him on the cheek.

"I've got to go, Dad, or I'm going to be late for work. Don't wait up for me tonight, okay?" I remind him again. "I love you."

"I love you, too, sweetheart," Davis responds as he picks up the newspaper, his forehead still creased with that worry that makes me want to slap every elder who has instigated taking away my mother from us. Including my Mom. Sometimes. "Have a wonderful day, okay?"

"I will!"

AT work at five o'clock that afternoon, I dash to the elevator, and then through the lobby to outside where my personal driver, William, slides the car in place on the dot as I am rushing out the doors. He never misses, despite other cars in line trying to get off from parking and drive home. He is to take me to this meeting place with the agent.

As we make our way through traffic, I keep looking at my watch. I really do not want to be late but traffic is standing still. And it has been for a while now.

Pushing a button that slides open the glass partition between myself and William, I inquire what is wrong, as I see him craning his neck out his side window to check the front of the line on our lane.

"There's a malfunctioning traffic light, Ms. Ravensworth. Cars are backed up in all directions, I'm afraid," he replies sullenly.

"Oh hell," I say under my breath. Sliding the glass close again, I roll down my side window to try to see how far the holdup extends.

The sound of beeping cars and angry drivers assail my ears.

But amidst the chaos, a distressed child is crying.

Looking in that direction, I see a flushed toddler along with a woman who appears to be his mother holding her in the backseat of a cab. The driver himself is looking worried and, like my driver, keeps craning his neck to check if someone's doing something about the traffic.

The child is obviously in pain and needs to be looked at by medical people immediately, and I am guessing they are on their way to the nearest medical facility.

This shouldn't be happening because I am there, and I know I can help the poor baby.

I don't need to think more about it.

My hand moves, my index finger flicking in the air, gathering what I need from the nether. I felt the static of electricity building fast on my fingertips and I throw it out there before it manifests in my hand enough for the naked eye to see.

And the problematic traffic light starts to function again.

The next one is easier, as the child is nearer to me than the posts that hold the traffic lights.

I murmur a spell, and the crying child slumps, fast asleep in her mother's arms.

The mother, who of course knows none the wiser, gets more agitated because it looks like her child fainted. She starts to cry herself.

But that isn't what's important at that moment.

I need to do something else before traffic moves and they drive away from me.

I spelled her child to sleep so she will not feel the pain of... I try to sense the reason for the crying with my 'spidey' sense.

Ahh, there it is. It is a dislocated shoulder from possibly a fall. I grimace. That is painful. But I can't heal that from here, and I am not that trained to heal bones.

I am at least relieved the child will not have to suffer until they can get her to a doctor. Her mother has frantically checked her baby's pulse and breathing and since all that should be good, she appears to look grateful that her child 'passed out' from the pain of her injury.

I see her wiping the tears from her eyes and securing her hold on her child. I don't need to do anything to her against her knowledge, thank the gods.  

I allow myself a small smile before sliding the window back up as traffic resumes very quickly after that.

And I think I just may make it in time for my meeting after all. 

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