They never used contraceptive spells in romance novels, and no one ever tripped on their way up those stairs, or looked away at this pivotal moment, not sure how to go on.  She wished life could be as neat as a book.  She wished she could tell what the right thing to do was.  She picked a crumpled bit of parchment up off the floor and smoothed it out.  Someone had written a neat list of ingredients and crossed them out one at a time. She ran her thumb along the edge and poked it under her nail, endless fidgets. 