Avery retreated to her room and leaned against the door, the wood cool against her back.
Lady Luck.
The name echoed in her mind like a haunting melody from a past she'd tried to bury. Seven years ago, she was only nineteen.
Her parents had perished in that laboratory fire. The blaze was so fierce not even their ashes remained for her to bury. She'd been jolted awake by a phone call in the middle of the night; she still remembered her study notes spread across the desk for a final exam the next morning.
Julian was fifteen then. He hadn't uttered a single word since.
When she called his name, he would look up. His eyes remained bright, yet they were hollow-void of expression, void of feedback. A shell of a boy. The doctors diagnosed it as selective mutism triggered by profound psycholog
