My phone buzzes, slicing through the quiet morning. Outside, cicadas drone in the Georgia heat, their rhythm pressing against the stillness. Al squints at the screen from her bunk bed, hair tangled from sleep. “Who’s calling you at seven in the morning?”
Israfil’s name glows. My chest tightens. My best friend. My brother in everything but blood. “I have to get this—I haven’t been able to reach him since leaving home.”
Al drags me down the hall, bare feet slapping against stone. “Use Gaston’s study. Magic shield—no one hears a word in here.” She shuts the door, leaving silence heavy around me. Even the hum of cicadas fades, muffled by the warded walls.
I sink into an old rocking chair, press the phone to my ear. “Izzy! I’ve missed you. And before you say anything, let me point out
