The air inside Miss Robichaux’s Academy was warm and festive, a sharp contrast to the snow outside. The grand foyer was alive with the soft glow of fairy lights draped along the bannisters, their golden shimmer playing off the dark wood and high ceilings. The faint scent of pine and cloves lingered in the air.

A towering fir tree had been set up in one corner, its branches heavy with an eclectic mix of ornaments: some glittering and modern, others ancient, hand-carved talismans that pulsed faintly with magic. Madison, perched on the arm of the couch, rolled her eyes as Zoe struggled with a strand of tangled lights.

"Seriously? How is this so hard for you?" Madison quipped, tossing her perfectly styled hair. "I swear, you’d find a way to mess up a spell for straightening shoelaces."

"Then why don’t you help instead of criticizing?" Zoe shot back, a rare note of defiance in her voice.

"Because I’m supervising," Madison replied smugly, taking a sip of her wine.

At the mantle, Myrtle Snow stood with a measuring tape, fussing over the placement of garlands and candles. "A masterpiece requires precision," she intoned, adjusting a sprig of holly by millimeters. "This is not some tawdry department store display."

Nearby, Queenie unpacked boxes of decorations, grumbling. "You know, for people who can summon fire with a flick of their fingers, we’re doing an awful lot of manual labor." She held up a garish, glittery star and wrinkled her nose. "Who picked this?"

"That would be me," Misty Day said, appearing from the kitchen with a tray of cookies. She gave a shrug and a wide grin. "What can I say? I like a little sparkle."