"Sabrina, that's a permanent marker," she admonishes, focusing on the practical, the fussy and mortal and boring, anything to quiet the sickening creep of her own distress. It doesn't work as well as she might hope. "What's Nick going to think, finding his counter all..."

Sabrina's not listening, finishing the sigil and slicing her thumb; Rosie's hand finds Charlie's as the magic takes effect. The light blinks out at a speed even she can tell is too quick.

"I don't think we do," she says, her voice sounding just as uncertain as his, her eyes going to Sabrina's and not wanting to find a confirmation there.