I stopped breathing.
The words shimmered across the page, dark ink rising from nothing as though the paper itself had been waiting for my touch.
If these words have found you... then the stars have finally brought you home.
Home.
The word blurred.
My eyes burned, but I refused to blink.
I was afraid if I looked away, the ink would disappear and take my mother with it.
The pendant rested against the page, its tiny silver star glowing softly, pulsing with a quiet rhythm that wasn't quite a heartbeat.
My hands trembled on either side of the journal.
"Talia," I whispered.
Silence answered.
But it no longer felt empty.
I lowered myself into the chair, afraid my knees might give out if I stayed standing.
The old wood creaked beneath me.
More words slowly appeared.
My little star,
