Sticking out slightly more than the others on a low shelf, almost concealed by shadow because of where it sits, I spot a green book and go to it immediately.
“This?” I call out to Sierra, pointing down and she looks around and gasps in glee.
“If I didn’t know better I would think you’re part witch. The books are calling to you as though you are.” She beams at me joyfully and I frown it away and go back to the table as she slides it free. Remembering we can’t touch without her say so and eager to get this done. Sierra brings it to the table and flicks through quickly, finding a dog-eared page and Meadow eye rolls dramatically. Slumping onto her own seat and making a show of her extreme disapproval.
“You bent the corner? Who does that, especially not hundred-year-old magical books? What
