{"Your spiritual gift was never meant for you alone—it was meant to flow through you to bless others."}
SIERRA'S POV
The library was too quiet, and I sat in the old sun-warmed chair by the arched window, fingers resting on a Mira tome I had read a hundred times before. The words blurred. The magic, once alive beneath my fingertips, was… still.
I closed the book and pressed my palm against the crystal in its spine. It used to respond instantly with a flicker of warmth, a gentle pulse that told me Mira was with me. That I was off it and there was nothing, but a hollow settled in my chest.
