Ayla’s POV
The morning air was crisp as we loaded the car. I had packed light, just a small bag with clothes and the journal tucked safely inside. Arkon moved quickly, his jaw set in that determined way that meant he was trying not to show how worried he was.
We had spent hours yesterday trying to decode my mother's riddles, searching every corner of the house. Behind the mirror that shows what was. We checked every mirror, looking for hidden compartments, secret spaces. Nothing. Beneath the place where stories sleep could have meant the library, but we found nothing there either.
In the end, we had run out of time. The meeting with the contact was today, and we couldn't miss it. The riddles would have to wait.
I slid into the passenger seat and buckled my seatbelt. Arkon started the
