Lucas Branwell
The PTA meeting concluded with an odd sense of emptiness, the hollowness echoing through the vacant chairs that should have been occupied by my parents. It was a stark reminder of the family I didn't have present, a consequence of choices that now weighed heavily on my shoulders. The regret was a bitter aftertaste, and as the last echoes of conversations faded away, I decided I needed a diversion. After Caspian met with his uncle, I hurried back to my dorm, an urge to be alone fraying my nerves.
The Umbra Nexa beckoned from its place on the shelf, its ancient spine creaking as I pulled it into my hands. The weight of the leather-bound tome felt grounding, the familiar texture helping to anchor me in the present, if only temporarily. I needed to push away the memories, the
