***Ella***
I am sat in a chair next to Freya, opposite her great-grandfather's desk. The only sounds come from a large clock on a mantle above a crackling fireplace.
Underneath one of the teacher's suit jackets, I am trembling a little with shock while my mind goes a mile a minute, trying to process what had just happened downstairs in the hall.
I had been able to get a fleeting, sideways glimpse of the strange, silvery, almost holographic-looking wings that had mysteriously sprouted from my shoulder blades in the middle of the dance floor, before they had abruptly disappeared from sight.
Freya had pulled me into a hug, one that I had sorely needed at that point, before teachers who were chaperoning the formal had swiftly intervened.
They had directed Freya and myself to the headmas
