The first thing Ethan noticed the next morning was that the compass was cold.
Not inactive—just quiet in a way that felt deliberate, like someone holding their breath. He lay in bed staring at the ceiling, waiting for the familiar pulse to return, but it didn’t. Outside, the town woke up gently, birds cutting through the early air, a delivery truck groaning down the street. Ordinary sounds, layered over something that felt newly fragile.
At school, the quiet followed him.
It wasn’t silence exactly. It was restraint. Teachers spoke more slowly, choosing words like they mattered more than usual. A guidance counselor hovered near the entrance, smiling too hard. Two police cars were parked across the street, engines running, officers inside pretending to scroll on their phones.
Noah saw th
