The door to his daughters’ room was open, but Alaric still knocked as he pushed it all the way open. A sweep of his eyes around the room told him he’d finally managed to get one of his daughters alone. 
“We need to talk,” he said, closing the door behind him.
“Dad, you don’t have to smother me.” Lizzie sat up to protest. “I’m fine -”
“It’s not about that.” Alaric swung his arms back and forth nervously. “It’s about your campaign ... I’ve had Emma looking into it -”
“Oh, Dad …” Lizzie smiled and dropped her head so he couldn’t see her eyes watering. “Thank you, but I already know who did it.”
“You - You do?” Alaric’s hands flew to his hips awkwardly.
“Yeah. Josie and I had some -” Lizzie stopped, realizing what she was about to say. She sighed. There was no keeping it from her dad anyways. “We had some witch weed today, and she spilled all her guilty guts.”
“You what?” Alaric’s tone got sharp. 
“Please don’t get all worried! It’s not a big deal -”
Alaric touched his fingertips to his temples. “It is a big deal. You know it can be dangerous with your meds. You know this! Josie knows this!”
“It’s not like it mattered anyways,” Lizzie said glumly. “That miracle potion counteracted any side effects.”
“That is not the point, Elizabeth.”
“Then let this be the point.” Lizzie stuck her chin in the air. “It’s not happening ever again. I got high, found out my own twin betrayed me, then got paralyzed at the beginning of an episode. If that’s not bad enough of a trip to ruin witch weed for me forever, I don’t know what is.”
Alaric couldn’t argue with that, so he just stared at Lizzie. She turned on the puppy-dog eyes, silently begging him not to be mad anymore. He dropped his head in defeat.
“Fine. You’re off the hook.” He raised a finger, catching himself. “But never again. Next time, I ground you until you’re thirty.” 
“Deal.”