"I can't hold this family together on my own."

"I didn't ask you to."

"But it's falling apart!"

"So what? Do you really think you can magically do something, and our family can be glued back together? Do you think that actually works? Do you expect your Fairy Godmother to come? 'Cause Artie, she's not coming. And she never will.

I'm leaving. Goodbye."

In fact, Artemis had expected a fairy godmother to come down, and sprinkle fairy dust on her, and make her family whole again.

Artemis Crock had been wishing for that for six years.

She now knows there's no fairy godmothers coming, no happy endings.

She knows that once family is cracked, it always is.

She knows that like a broken plate, family needs to be replaced, or you have to live with the absence of one.

Because you can't glue it back together.

Because you can't sprinkle fairy dust on it.

It won't work.

God knows, Artemis tried enough times.

She imagines her old family as a shoddy plate, with cracks and chips. They were bound to break sometime.

It was meant to break.

Her new family, the Team. They were high grade Plexiglas. They were new, slick.

But they worked as if they knew each other for longer, and worked better than the one that actually had.

It would not break. Would not shatter.

At least, she hopes.

She hopes it always will stay.

Because, try as she might, she can't glue the pieces back together.