Then pulled it out, wrapped it in silk, and tucked it deep into the drawer again—under ribbons, under sketchpads, under a large teddy with one button eye.
'Stay quiet, please.'
Downstairs, the sound of siblings shouting over unpacking echoed through the corridors. Evelisse smiled faintly.
She pulled out a blank scroll.
Then paused.
Then opened a new drawer and pulled out a fresh journal. Gold-lined, soft-covered, new.
On the first page, she wrote:
Things I Need to Figure Out Before My Head Explodes:
1. Why do magical items like me?
2. Who was that mirror girl?
3. Am I a "Daughter of Dawn" or is that a weather forecast title?
4. What does "Echo Stone" mean?
5. How to throw a seashell into the sea without it following me back.
She capped her pen.
Tucked the journal under her pillow.
And tried to breathe.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
Later that evening, dinner was loud and comforting.
