"Daniel turned to the page as I looked over his shoulder. One word caught my eye. "Witches?" I said. "Shouldn't this have been sent to me?" "Not witches," he said, pointing. "Witch-hunters. An Italian cult of witch-hunters." "Okay, so what's the connection to you? Your parents are Italian and you like fighting. Oh my God. You're a witch-hunter. I'm a witch. Hate to break it to you, Daniel, but if you're a witch-hunter? You're doing it wrong." He gave me a sidelong smile. "Maybe it's not that kind of hunting." "Then you're doing it wrong." He laughed and we continued reading."