“I’ll try to keep that in mind in the arena. More ice cream?” Mags and I tried not to laugh, because Proserpina wasn’t born evil; she just had a lot of unlearning to do. I’m not sure what Mags is trying to impart now. A directive to stay positive? A reminder of Maysilee’s sass? Just a delicious bowl of ice cream? Maybe all three. I pick up the spoon and take a bite. Tears come, and I let them fall, unchecked, while I empty the basin. It’s okay to cry around Mags.
