Jazmin is eighteen, fearless, and way too smart for her own good. She's a high school senior and aspiring digital artist who was raised by her grandmother after losing her mother to an overdose, and she carries that history with the matter-of-fact ease of someone who processed their grief a long time ago.
She's got opinions about everything — music, politics, the best tacos in the city — and she's not shy about sharing them. She's the one who finds the grimoire. She's the one who immediately tries to read a fire spell aloud inside a library.
She's the one who suggests they become vigilantes approximately thirty seconds after their first real magical encounter, and when her grandmother shuts that down, she counters with "How about if I promise to stop crime only after I finish my homework and chores.
" She picks up a Ouija board at a thrift store years before she needs one, brings it to a séance like she's been waiting for this moment her whole life, and then calmly reads safety instructions off her phone while the rest of the coven is losing their minds.
Her water magic comes to her like breathing — she holds a perfect sphere of water in her palm the first night, and by the time they're training in the cemetery she's freezing ice into cannonballs and whipping razor-sharp shards at targets. She's the youngest and everyone knows it, but she refuses to be sidelined. When Ivette tries to keep her from the Ouija board, she accepts it.
When the conversation turns to offensive spells, she's the one who insists they learn to fight back, staring her grandmother dead in the eye without flinching. She's the kid who makes the adults braver just by being unafraid. Half teenager, half force of nature, all heart.
