Scarlet
I always found something oddly comforting about the smell of books and old paper—like it grounded me when the world got too loud, too sharp. So even though I barely slept last night, even though my powers still buzzed beneath my skin like a live wire waiting to snap, I found myself back in the library after school. Not for ancient scrolls or secret grimoires this time—just plain old textbooks and highlighters.
I stayed here by myself in one corner, taking in the moment. This was the first time this week I’d felt any sort of peace.
Evelyn called me the next day after the ritual, said we needed to talk. But I wasn’t ready. I still wasn’t ready. There was too much noise in my head. Too many questions wrapped around too many feelings I hadn’t dared to name.
So I ignored all the ca
