~Ivelle
The house smelled like burnt wood, smoke, and cleaning supplies. Every step I took made my boots squeak on the scorched floor, and I couldn’t stop babbling, even though Master Laurent and Denzel were both silent, their eyes focused on the mess around us.
“Seriously, you guys left me behind,” I said, picking up shards of charred glass and waving them in the air. “I could have helped! I have powers too. You should have woken me up. I could have—”
“You’ll get your turn,” Master Laurent said quietly. His voice didn’t carry scolding, but it made me stop and stare at him.
Denzel sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Ivelle, can you just help clean first?”
I huffed. “Fine, fine!”
I stacked some of the ruined furniture against the wall. The room felt empty, scarred. Laurent didn’t
