In my dorm room, I slid onto my bed, my head in my hands as I cried. All the pain of losing my uncle and aunt, then finding out my real mom cared more about magic than me made a bitterness sting the back of my throat. Maybe my aunt's idea of avoiding using magic at all was better than worrying about who would accidentally get hurt because of me.
I grabbed my pillow and pressed it to my chest. Not accessing my magic was like trying not to breathe. It had always been a part of me. Then I thought of the dark mages and their plea, feeling guilty all over again.
So I fell asleep, crying.
* * *
My computer dinged with an email alert. I pushed up, scrubbing a hand over my face. I checked my account and my new list of classes popped up. Quickly, I scanned them and frowned.
•Double-credit Mag
