Chapter Thirteen

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"Rob?" asked Jen. "He gets back at six. Why?"

"You know why," sulked Christine. "I need his stamp of approval or I'm not staying here."

Jen wrestled the gigantic pink suitcase onto her bed, looking a bit like Steve Irwin. She had somehow managed to create some semblance of order on the floor.

"And that's that," she said, unzipping it. "Take a look."

Christine looked critically at the stack of clothes. Blouses, scarfs, skirts, jeans, mufflers, a single pair of mittens... and that was just what she could see at the top of the pile. She didn't see anything that looked too outlandish – then again, her dress code back home was mostly shirts and shorts. She didn't think too much about clothes. Clothes were the things that went on your body to stop people from looking at you like a madwoman.

"It'll work," she said. "Thanks."

"I also got toothpaste, some shower gel, my last spare toothbrush, and five packs of tampons," grinned Jen, unzipping the second pocket. "Unless you use pads?"

Christine tugged the Tampax out pack by pack, arranging it into a rather soft and squeaky pyramid.

"I'll live," she said. "Thanks. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," said Jen.

"Why did you bring all this stuff here when you're not even sure that I'll stay here for good? I mean, what if Rob says no?"

"Oh, C," said Jen, in the same tones that she reserved for her pet cat. "You're a real grouch, you know that? If you assume that the worst is going to happen all the time, then you're not going to get anything but the worst!"

"Sounds like a recipe for disappointment pie," said Christine. "And besides, the worst already has happened... shoot."

"What? Shoot what?"

"I forgot to cancel my cards," said Christine. "They have all my details now."

"Oh, that?" said Jen. "Well, something tells me that if the thieves are indeed the magical people whom we suspect them to be, then they won't care too much about having your checking account. Here, have my laptop."

She opened her backpack and handed her MacBook over. It had a Celtic cross decal and a large sticker reading #MageLyfe on the front.

"No password?" frowned Christine, tugging at the lid. "Hey, why won't it..."

"Security spell," grinned Jen, snapping her fingers. "Works a treat."

"Oh."

The bezel sparked autumn-orange and the laptop opened. After fumbling through the usual MacOS problems, such as everything being on the wrong side, Christine busied about logging into her online bank accounts, trying to cancel her cards, failing due to her lack of a usable phone number or her OTP keychain generator, and at last settling for about five very hesitant emails that explained very little about the situation.

"You could call your mom," said Jen, peering over her shoulder. "Just a thought."

"I am not telling Mum about any of this," said Christine at once. "Not until I get things sorted with Rob."

"Well, you don't have to worry about that," said Jen. "I did it for you."

Christine nearly rammed a hole in the 'H' key.

"You what?!" she squawked.

"I called her and explained everything that happened," said Jen. "She seemed pretty resigned."

"What... what'd she say?"

On one hand, Christine was really glad that she didn't need to talk to Mum, but at the same time, she hadn't expected Jen to do it for her. It felt like Christine was imposing on her, in a way. Forcing her to do something she didn't want to do.

"She said that whatever you do, don't try to get your stuff back. She's already canceled all your cards, locked your phone, and sent an application for a new passport. She'll send everything over when it's ready, but in the meantime she's asked Dad and me to get you back on your feet again, on her dime of course."

"She has?"

Christine glanced at the clock.

"But it's been... wait, how does she have my Google password —"

"She also wants to remind you that she's literally a fortune-teller and spends most of her time dealing with bad luck, which is why she was completely prepared for this."

Christine thought back to yesterday and her mother's parting words.

"Don't deal with anything or anyone you don't understand, Christine. Understand?"

"She didn't even say goodbye to me. She just... let me catch a bus. To the airport."

"I think your mom is pretty strange, yeah," said Jen. "Sometimes she strikes me as someone who doesn't quite know how to say what she means. At least she was watching out for you."

Christine fell silent.

She'd never been watched over, not at any point in her life. She'd spent her days at home alone, even when Mum was there.

So she wasn't about to let Mum get to her now, or pretend to be a good parent all of a sudden. That wasn't how parenting worked. Lily Lau had had her chances.

"Marriage is also a ritual. Remember that."

"Jen, who is the Hart Princess? And why are all three of the weirdo guys in this apartment trying to marry her? Does she have a choice?"

"Ah," said Jen. "Who told you?"

"Yusuke," said Christine. "He seemed pretty serious."

Jen sat on the bed.

"Well, it was about time we had this talk, anyway. I was going to tell you in the car, but it kind of has something to do with..."

"With?"

"With your family."

"With my..."

Christine screwed up her brow, then sighed deeply.

"Alright, hit me."

"Will do," said Jen. "I'll try to make it brief."

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