Day Forty-Eight
Dear Diary,
Almost 12 am.
Moonlight reflects off the glass panes of the greenhouse. The starry sky arches overhead. Moments tick by, each one bringing me closer to midnight. Silence presses in around me.
Midnight strikes.
The red door swings open.
Past the threshold, there is only darkness. Rustling sounds. A pair of luminous pink eyes stare up at me from the shadows. Something about the size and shape brings back a memory.
I step closer.
As my vision adjusts to the dim light, I find a baby pink llama staring up at me. This is the same costume I wore at the masquerade.
What a stumper.
This doesn’t look like ultimate source of all fae power. I blink, wondering if there’s some kind of magical cloaking spell at work here.
Nope.
I’m still face to face with a llama.
