-Alexia-
The world didn't fall apart the next morning. No vines crashing through windows, no earthquakes, no magical nature raves. Just my phone alarm screeching and that familiar ache behind my eyes, like a hangover without the fun to justify it. I didn't go to work. Bree wouldn't let me.
"You just turned a bar into a jungle gym, Lex," she said, pinning me to the couch with a coffee mug. "Call in sick before you turn the Brew and Bloom into a greenhouse."
She wasn't wrong. The last two days, I'd deep-cleaned our apartment like I could scrub the weird out of it. I rewatched every vet documentary I could find, tried not to notice my houseplants creeping across the walls, and convinced myself maybe it was stress. Perhaps I imagined it. Even though the pothos in the kitchen now trailed across the ceiling, curling affectionately toward the coffee maker like it knew me. But today wasn't about strange vines or flickering lights. Today was about Zeus.
The Healing Paw called just after sunrise. Zeus was ready to come home. I barely remembered to brush my hair before I was out the door, heart hammering like I was late for a final. The clinic smelled like lavender disinfectant and wet fur, and I nearly burst into tears just signing in. Zeus trotted around the corner, a goofy grin on his face, tail wagging like he hadn't just had surgery.
"Hey, baby," I whispered, sinking to my knees as he leaned into me, warm and alive.
For the first time in days, the world went quiet. No buzzing in my head. No static in the air. Just Zeus, pressing his forehead to mine, reminding me I was still here. We got his meds and a reminder about the cone—he'd already Houdini'd out of it once—and then we were off. Zeus rested his chin on the passenger seat, eyes half-closed like a sleepy king, while I kept one hand on his back. Everything felt almost normal again.
Until we got home. I barely made it two steps into the apartment before Bree's voice rang out.
"You're back!"
"Yeah," I called, juggling Zeus's leash and the bag of meds. "We survived."
Bree popped her head out of the kitchen, hair in a messy bun, holding a mug that said "Dead Inside But Caffeinated."
"He looks good," she said, ruffling Zeus's fur. "Better than you."
"Gee, thanks."
"Any more vines try to eat you?"
"No," I muttered. "But my pothos grew, like, three feet overnight."
Bree's expression flickered, but she didn't say anything. We hadn't talked about The Hollow. About what we saw. About what I did. I turned toward the kitchen and froze. On the counter sat an envelope. Cream-colored. Thick. No stamp. No return address. My full name was written across the front in dark, looping calligraphy that looked like it belonged in a fantasy novel.
Miss Alexia Mae Carter
My stomach tightened.
Bree peered over my shoulder. "What's that?"
"I… don't know. It wasn't here when I left."
Which meant someone had come in while I was gone. My fingers hovered over the deep green wax seal. An ornate "W" wrapped in vines and gusts of wind was pressed into it. The seal pulsed faintly under my touch, warm. Like it recognized me. Heart thudding, I cracked the seal and unfolded the parchment. It smelled like herbs and storm-soaked earth, the ink matching the elegant script on the front.
To Miss Carter,
The storm has stirred. The roots have shifted. The world will not wait.
You have been seen. You have been summoned.
You are invited to Whisperwind College for the Gifted and Otherworldly.
Your presence is expected at sundown. Transportation will arrive.
Pack lightly. Bring Zeus.
—Headmistress Morrigan Shade
I reread it. And again. And a third time, slower, as if the words would change if I stared long enough.
Bree snatched it from my hand. "What the hell?" she whispered.
"I don't know," I croaked.
"This is like… Hogwarts for plant witches."
"I'm not a plant witch," I said automatically.
"You made a plant attack someone, Lex."
"It wasn't me."
"Then how do you explain the entire ceiling turning into Fern Gully on steroids?"
I pressed my hands to my face, the letter crumpling between my fingers. Whisperwind College. Gifted and Otherworldly. What the hell does that even mean?
"You think it's real?" I asked. "It has to be a prank."
Bree didn't answer. She just looked at me, really looked at me, like she saw something I hadn't noticed yet. My phone buzzed with a notification I hadn't set:
Pickup in 3 hours. Pack light.
I swallowed, a cold ripple running down my spine, followed by something warm. Hope. Or fear. I couldn't tell.
Bree straightened, shoulders squared. "Okay. You're going."
"What? No, I'm not—"
"Lex." Her voice softened, but didn't waver. "Remember when the biology lab's ivy broke through the window the day you got detention in seventh grade? Or the thunderstorm that started inside your dorm during your sophomore year? You've always known you were different."
"I thought it was just… bad luck."
"It wasn't. And you know it."
I sank into the chair, the letter shaking in my hands. Zeus padded over, nudging my knee with his nose. I tangled my fingers in his fur, grounding myself in his warmth.
"This is insane," I whispered.
"Yeah," Bree said, a small smile on her face. "But you're going to be okay. You're ready for this."
Was I? I didn't know. But as I looked down at the letter, the name Whisperwind pulsed in my chest, like a half-remembered song. Fear twisted in my gut. But excitement flickered, too. Something had cracked open inside me, and whatever was on the other side? It had been waiting for me.