Nineteen
That image of Mom screaming, wild terror in her eyes, floods my mind first thing the next morning. I make a conscious effort to focus on something else: My Griffin Ability. I need to learn how to use it. Last night could have turned out so differently if I’d been able to calm Mom down with just a few words. If I’d been able to tell that magical alarm to turn itself off. I need to get past my fear of all things medical and hand over a sample of my magic. I need that elixir.
Mom. Cowering. Her mouth open in a silent scream.
I shove the memory aside yet again and turn over—and find Bandit snuggled beside me in kitten form. I’m about to push him away from me, but he looks so darn cute curled up with his nose tucked beneath one paw. And it’s oddly comforting to realize I haven’t bee
