Shatterproof by Yvonne Collins, Sandy Rideout

believe in magic?”
    “Like potions and hexes?”
    “Hexes,” I muse. “That’d be great.”
    “I definitely believe in intuition,” Mena says. “And maybe ghosts. But probably not potions and hexes.”
    “You’re drawing the line at ghosts?”
    “Yeah,” she says, laughing. “But if I had a magic wand I’d turn Baxter into a scorpion, so that everyone could see his true nature.”
    “Perfect. And you could make Reuben a hippopotamus.”
    “But first,” she says, “So I didn’t waste the magic on losers, I’d turn you into a happily married woman with her own travel agency.”
    “Really.”
    “Yep, and I’d baby-sit your angelic little girl while you went on those freebie comp trips.”
    “Let’s leave the kids with the guys and take the comp trips together.”
    “Huh. It would be magic if we came home and found everyone alive.”
    I’m actually laughing when I hang up. True magic indeed.
     

     
    The receptionist buzzes to say that Scott and Jasper are waiting to see me. My brothers have never visited the NTA offices, so my heart leaps into my throat with the prospect of bad news.
    I hurry to the foyer, relaxing only when I see the guys showering the giggling receptionist with a heavy dose of twin charm.
    “Chill, El,” Scott says, flashing me a grin. “No one died. You look like you need a smoke.”
    “As if,” I say. “What are you doing here?”
    They flank me, each grabbing an elbow, and march me toward the elevator. “Wait a second,” I protest. “I don’t want any more of your surprises.”
    They banter over my head on the way downstairs.
    “She looks like hell.”
    “A granny.”
    “Good thing we had the party when she was still able to enjoy it.”
    “Has she thanked us yet?”
    “I don’t think she has. We laid down good coin for that party.”
    “She’ll remember us in her will.”
    I don’t bother responding until they lead me outside the building, where the wind is swirling a few fat snowflakes. They’re wearing, coats, but I’m shivering in my suit jacket. “Guys, what’s going on?”
    Scott pulls cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one with a practiced hand, despite the wind. He hands the pack to Jaz, who does the same.
    “Look at her expression,” Scott says.
    “You’d think we just snorted crack,” Jaz replies.
    “You guys smoke?” My surprise is surprising, considering what I’ve seen today.
    “I thought you knew all, Number 1,” Scott says.
    “I didn’t know that ,” I say. “Anyway, I’m freezing. Talk to me.”
    Scott waits as Jaz takes a long drag and exhales. They’ve clearly scripted their lines and Jaz comes first.
    “We wanted to apologize about the party,” Jaz says. “Well, not about the party, but the half-life theme. And about talking Noah into proposing. It obviously rattled you hard, Number 1.”
    “Did you talk to Noah?” I ask, hearing the hope in my voice. He still hasn’t returned any of my calls or texts.
    Jaz gives a quick nod. “He said you were pissed to be put on the spot like that.”
    “We thought it was a done deal,” Scott jumps in. “I mean, it’s Noah.”
    I stare at them, my hair whipping in front of my eyes. The mere absence of smartass grins means they honestly feel bad. “It would have come to this at some point,” I say.
    “She’s letting us off the hook.”
    “Good ol’ Eleanor.”
    “But it did come at a bad time,” I add. “Things here are just... impossible.”
    “Yeah,” Scott says. “We saw the photo.”
    “The one of you making out with the hot guy,” Jaz says.
    “He wasn’t that hot,” Scott says.
    “Hotter than Noah,” Jaz replies.
    “But... how...?” I begin.
    “Baxter had my e-mail address because I sent the party deets,” Scott says. “Although this came from some general NTA account.”
    “And then it apparently disappeared,” Jaz says. “Like magic.”
    “Thank god I was up early enough to see it,” Scott says. “Otherwise, I’d never have believed