I stared at my screen until the light faded.
The Fourth Legacy. What did it mean? And why did it feel less like a threat and more like a call?
That night, I spread everything across my bedroom floor—the medallion, Dr. Julian's journal, and every note and photograph I'd collected. The Circle's original symbol was closed, complete and unbroken. But this new one had a gap at the top.
A doorway. Or perhaps a bridge.
Mom knocked gently and stepped inside. When she saw what I was studying, she didn't look surprised.
“I was wondering when you'd find it,” she said.
“Find what?”
“Your grandmother carved that symbol above the entrance to the first community centre she founded. She believed a closed circle shut people out, while an open circle invited them in.”
She sat beside me.
“She called
