Yeah, and I’m a pixie in a tutu.
They’ve summoned every witch in Hollow Cove to stand trial—me, my aunts, every last one of us.
Because apparently saving lives, stopping curses, and keeping this town from burning to the ground wasn’t enough to earn a little trust.
Something’s off. I can feel it in my witchy bones.
Now I’m juggling magical interrogations, secret agendas, and the growing suspicion that this trial isn’t what it seems.
Marcus is missing in action. My aunts are one insult away from unleashing hell. And my gut says the real danger hasn’t even begun.
If we fail this trial, we could lose everything—our power, our freedom, our home.
But if they think I’m going down without a fight?
They picked the wrong witch.