It looks the same, hell, it smells the same, damp stone and mildew. But I’m not. I’ve changed in here. Not sure what I’ve changed into yet, or if it’s better, or just tougher, harder.
I drop down on the edge of the bed and pick up the last of mum’s journals from where I finished reading it this morning after Talen left. Leather soft in my hands.
He kept his word, was up and gone before the sun rose. I didn’t hear him leave, but when I woke, the mess was cleared, Ezzy’s bed back where it belonged. The desk looks like it’s seen better days, but everything else? Clean. Tidy.
I was surprised he didn’t wake me, but I guess that’s one of the perks of being able to control sound. I would've liked to see him before he left. But I can’t lie—getting some rest was worth it. Best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages.
For a minute or two, when I finally woke up, I just floated there—warm, heavy, still caught in the haze of him.
Then I sat up and everything came rushing back at once. Beth, the baker, Ashvale, Bren.
Talen had been the perfect distraction from it all. But now my bed was empty again, and the silence made the noise in my head impossible to ignore.
So I did the only other thing that ever really helps, I opened mum’s journal and started reading through the final entries.
I thought there’d be more, but a few pages were missing—torn clean out—what was left, though, still hit harder than I was ready for and by the time I reached the last line, my hands were shaking. Not from cold. Not from fear. Just… grief.
Finishing the journal felt like losing her all over again. Like the last piece of her I had was gone, and I couldn’t stretch the moment any further. But she wasn’t just my mum in those pages. She was someone else too—someone strategic. Afraid. Brave in a way I’d never understood until now. Not loud, not reckless. Just… enduring.
And god, it hurt. Seeing her like that. Not perfect, not the half-memory I’d clung to. But a woman who lied to me. Who kept things buried so deep I’m only just now digging them out—my father, the truth about who she was, what she gave up.
I wanted to throw the book across the room. I wanted to hold it to my chest and never let go. I hated her for not telling me. I loved her for trying to protect me. Both things lived in my heart at once. Bittersweet and warm.
Taking a deep breath in, I look back down at the journal in my hand and then place it on the desk. Because it doesn’t matter how I feel about it, it doesn’t matter what any of this means—not right now.
Right now, there are still more important things I need to figure out and focus on.
Like the fact that I need a new plan.
Because she was right.
Being brave doesn’t mean burning everything down. Doesn’t mean making noise just to feel like I’m fighting. I tried that, and all it did was get someone killed and push the people I care about further away.
Talen’s still hiding things, that hasn’t changed. But he gave me a Truth String. Promised I’d get answers, if I stop pushing. If I stay low. Wait.
So that’s the plan now: survive here long enough to get them. Survive the Second-year Trials later this summer, and stay out of the way of Weasel Senior. No more sneaking around the library, no more working behind people’s backs. I focus on my magic, my friendships.
It’s not going to be easy; it's not something that comes naturally to me.
Soif I’m going to pull this off—stay passive, patient, stop starting fires—I need something else to hold on to. Something to distract me. Something that makes me feel like I’m still choosing something in all this.
I don't even care if it makes me look weak.
I need Talen Veirmont back in my bed.
Ezzy must’ve gotten back sometime latelast night. I must’ve slept like the dead—didn’t hear the door, didn’t hear her boots, nothing. Just shut my eyes and blinked into the morning, and there she was.I tried to ask her about Finn, but she didn’t want to talk about it—just muttered something about her bed being moved an inch to the left and us being late for Non-Magical Combat.
I didn’t argue, didn’t push. I just stuck to the new plan. Stay patient, be a good friend. No more spiralling, no more burning things down. I'm doing what I promised. Holding back, laying low and planning how to get Talen naked again.
Things are still a little delicate between us, but on the walk over to class, Ezzy pulled a few cookies from her pack—wrapped in a bit of cloth, handmade, slightly crumbled, shaped like little dragons with crooked wings and too many teeth.
She didn’t say anything, just held them out. I took one. Careful. Grateful. Maybe it didn’t mean we were fine again. But it meant something.
By the time we reach the Rec Hall, Rowan’s already there, a book in hand as always. So is Finn. He’s pacing outside, hands buried in his pockets, head down, tense all over—but the second he sees us, his spine jerks straight and he starts toward us.
“Ezzy, can I—” he says.
She doesn’t even glance at him. Just walks straight past and disappears inside. Finn’s shoulders sag. He exhales hard, like something in him just gave up.
