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When flying internationally, if the chaperone your dad hired decides to upgrade all of you to business class, you go with it. That way, you can pretend to sleep while actually panicking about the fact that you’ve quite possibly destroyed both the magical and non-magical worlds in comfort.
During take off, I was still super worried about Raven outing the death of the Ladies to everyone in Beville/having added a code to Devon’s and Elizabeth’s passports that made them look like criminals so they’d be arrested the moment we landed in Athens.
By the time we’d gotten solidly over the ocean, I realized that, like it or not, I was going to have to find a way to preserve the secrecy of the magical world to:
Make sure Manhattan didn’t end up looking like a casualty of the latest, large-cast s
