Maggit opened a tiny bookshop that smelled faintly of toast. Lark ran a bakery where the scones always had exactly the right amount of clotted cream. Samir became a "lost and found" consultant—no magic required, just excessive curiosity. And Finch started speaking again, one word at a time, in a voice that sounded like wind chimes.
Inside: You are not broken. You are just irregular. very secret society of irregular witches
She stood on the doorstep, clipboard hanging at her side. Maggit opened a tiny bookshop that smelled faintly of toast