Jennifer’s POV
I hold my breath at the scene, my nerves tingling, as I instinctively step back. Just my luck—my back bumps right into Ryan’s solid chest. He gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, whispering, “It’ll be alright.”
“Will he die?” I squeak, a tad melodramatic, but who can blame me?
Sarah shakes her head with a mischievous glint. “Oh, please, that would be too merciful. We’re all about the drama here.” She claps her hands with flair, and a wooden spoon hanging above the fireplace zooms into her grasp, morphing into a wand. “Good spoon,” she murmurs, as if it just fetched the morning paper.
Ryan and I exchange a look of utter disbelief, our eyebrows threatening to shoot off our foreheads, then refocus on Sarah.
“You seem surprised,” Sarah chuckles, fondling the wand like a
