*Morgan*

“Can you please hand me those vials, Cain?” I ask him.

Cain, Tanya, Serena, and I are in my potion-making shed packing everything up. I’ve just finished all the healing brews, mixtures, and salves I can think of.

“I hope this is enough,” I admit nervously to the room.

I look around at the hundreds of vials and containers of creams I’ve whipped up over the last few days. The potions are many ...