My legs dragged on the hard floor as I made my way to my room, staring at the little card in my hand. How did this get to Lyra? Who sent it? Most importantly, who made it? Because I certainly did not. I’m not crazy — I wouldn’t forget printing something like this for a guest list of just fourty-four people.
I stood at the door of my room, slapping my head against it in frustration. “Where should I start from?” I mumbled to myself, hitting my head once more before opening the door and stepping inside.
I dropped the card on the dresser, then went to take a bath. It always helped me calm down and think better.
The tap ran, but it wasn’t helping. I was restless. I felt like I was missing something — like there was something important I was forgetting or just not seeing.
A deep sigh escaped
