The Academy felt wrong.
Not in the obvious way—not like shattered glass or blood on the tiles. No, it was subtle. A shade too quiet. A second too long between each bell chime. A flicker in the torchlight where none should be.
The kind of wrong that makes you glance over your shoulder for a breath that wasn't yours.
And I knew—without question—that the Echo wasn't sealed anymore.
It was watching.
Waiting.
And it had chosen someone.
"Professor?" Mira's voice broke my thoughts.
I looked up from the rune sequence I'd etched across my chalkboard. She sat cross-legged on the front desk, twirling a quill between her fingers. Julien leaned against the window frame, arms crossed. Felix was dozing. Leo was scribbling half-heartedly. Garrick was balancing a textbook on his head.
But Cassandra… she wasn't here.
Again.
That made three absences in a row.
And the last time I saw her—truly saw her—she had been humming.
That same static-laced tune from the dream.
