Ember Frost’s POV
“Hey, morning, girls!”
Lyra came running toward us, clutching a small box to her chest like her life depended on it.
There was a lot of chaos at school. There were only a few days left until graduation, and every club was rushing to get their places ready. Many students with ribbons, boards, and props were coming through the front gates. In the chaos, Lyra ran into a boy who was handling several badminton rackets.
The box slipped from her hands. A flurry of rose-colored cards scattered across the wet earth.
“Oh no—no, no! This is terrible!” She cried, dropping to her knees.
It was too late when we rushed over to help her. The night before, it had rained, so the ground was still wet and slippery. They were ruined; they were wet all the way through, and their colors
