I wipe her cheeks dry. She snuggles angrily into my chest, hiccuping. “She’s fine,” I tell the guys. “She just needed a cuddle.” No one says anything. I look up. All three men are staring at me, their eyes wide. I blink. “What?” “She’s a witch,” Cyrus says faintly. “What the hell. She’s been crying for about six hours straight. Are you saying all we had to do is pick her up?”
