"Yes, but what if you can’t handle the truth?" She looked in his face, judging what she found there. He wasn’t sure what she saw, but she nodded. "It’s not a flying stick, Evan. It’s a broom." She waved her chopstick, and a broom appeared with the word  Firebolt on the sides. "I’m a witch, and I shouldn’t be telling you this. We, magical peoples, have a law called the Statute of Secrecy that prohibits sharing information about us with non-magical folks, or Muggles, like you."