“Do you mind if I cast a cantrip, Mr. Madigan?” My father sounded wary. “What sort of spell is necessary during dinner?” “To see what ingredients are in the food. I have a delicate disposition.” I snorted, only to draw everyone’s attention. I raised my glass to them and drank, to hide the curl of my lips. “Just eat the food, Lee,” Phelan murmured with a twinge of mortification.
