Chapter 4 — Chapter 3

Seraphine

*Seraphine*

I shift uncomfortably on the couch, picking at a loose thread on my sleeve, my mind already racing back to that day a year ago when Althea vanished. We’d searched for weeks—scoured every corner of Moonshade Grove, cast every locating spell we knew—until hope turned to ash. Now, the tension in the room is so thick I could slice it with a knife. My mother’s voice, low and husky, cuts through my thoughts as she faces my father by the fireplace. “I’m not ready for this, Lake.”

Dad’s face is rigid with pain, his hand trembling slightly as it rests on the mantel, where a faded photograph of Althea sits beside a small protective charm carved with runes—a silent ward against the creatures we’ve feared for generations. His fingers drum an uneven rhythm, betraying the calm he’s trying to project. “We can’t keep avoiding it, Georgia,” he says, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s been a year since it happened. We need to talk about Althea.”