Silent Calm: Sterling's Obsession

minute Elara's cruising along, next minute her brain's got those words-"unique abilities," "rare gift," "dangerous," "protected

her whole if she moves wrong. Secrets everywhere-like she wandered into some "Survivor: Paranoia Edition" nightmare, except nobo

dge. Like, "Okay, universe, you wanna mess with me? Bring it." She's so over the fake grins and

that somehow bypass every blocker. The whole "I'm your friend, trust me" schtick? Yeah, not buying it. She's got her eye on him now, catching those moments where

meline, and honestly, the dude's probably hiding a whole haunted house, not just a

and Damien-always sneaking around, whispering behind doors, like they're auditioning for

amien's drama. Really? What cosmic lottery did her family lose to get this mess? Her tho

e. "Just grabbing my purse," she tells herself. Yeah, sure. She's got one goal: te

noop. She goes straight for the file cabinet-duh, where else would you kee

n To-Do List" scribbled on a napkin or something. Nope. Damien's

t her from under the desk. Tiny black drive, camo'd under a pile of dust. She

e look? What if it's, like, digital poison or some brain-melting video? Whate

hand. She already knows-whatever's on here, life's

t?" Secrets? Please. That thing was a nest of hornets, all buzzing under her skin and making her twitchy as hell. She kept darting glances over her shoulder, like

y done. Subtlety? Out the window. She bolted, clutching that drive like it was a live grenade set to go off nex

on life support. But hey, it was hers, and at least she could breathe in there. She shoved the drive into h

Henry, cheesing like he won the lottery. Chilling with Isabella, both of them with those "we're up to some shady crap" faces. Whispering

look away, though. Henry and Isabella, thick as thieves,

er grainy, all shadows, but the voices-crystal clear. Her dad. Damien, completely losing his min

and payback-what the hell was she supposed to have done? Nothing t

the wiring-just static and panic, nothing useful rising to the top. She barely kept herself from

apartment door. Not loud, but sharp enough to cut

g out of her chest. She froze, eyes bugging, holding her breath l

careful-like whoever was out there was trying not to

just random city weird, but personal-someone

mattered. Stuck her eye to the peephole. Useless-hall light was garbage-but sh

dropped-this wasn't some d

d enough she nearly threw it across the room. Fumb

little "Hello?"-came ou

ll distorted and cold, like it was echoing up fr

. Sil

ng got floaty and weird, like she was watching her own life through the world's

arms around each other, grinning like they'd just gotten away with murder. Mira. Only person she trust

Heart pounding so loud she was shocked the creeper at her door didn't hear it. The noise o

's a sprained ankle compared to whatever fresh hell waited inside? She scrambled onto the fire escape, metal digging into

Whoever wanted in wasn't sho

was hunting her down. She flagged a cab, mouth barely working as she spat out Mira's address-way out where the city fa

ke. Her brain was basically a busted-up pinball machine-just that grainy video, zipping around, over and over again. Her dad. Damien. Those words, echoing like a curse: "I want her to pay!" Who the hell was "her," anyway? Isabella? Or-h

arted hoarding, that'd be it. The air, though? Heavy. Like you could almost chew it. Wet dirt, wild honeysuckle, and som

ne dialing Mira. Voice came out all scratchy, like sh

lowing her whole, beads clacking like windchimes in a hurricane. She smelled like a whole apothecary and a

ira's hands everywhere-shoulders, arms, like she

My dad, Damien, Isabella, Henry-the whole crew's tangled up. And someone's watching me now. I found this-said 'Fo

like she knew. She rolled the drive between her fingers, thumb tracing the engraving. "Yeah, I al

bly had names like "witch's root" or "moon salt." The cottage smelled like lavender, beeswax, and something sharp Elara

disappeared. "It's not just you. It's your blood. Your mom's f

My mom? She neve

crets, you bury deep. Especially when people with power come sniffing aroun

allergic to technology. Mira looked like a boho hacker, beads jangling, rain-scent clinging to her as

pure poison: "I want her to pay!" Mira actually gasped, hand

missing it. May as well have neon arrows pointing: Sterling curse, right here. "That's it. Nasty stuff. Like a bad family recipe nobody wants but everyone gets. Th

iggle down her spine. "Feed? What,

he life outta someone with actual elemental magic. Not a polite taste-full vacuum cleaner mod

des tried to evacuate. "Wait-so Damien's planning to do that

ou down, keep your magic on a leash, use it so he doesn't turn to mush. Old school. Re

inally fell into place. Ugly, ugly picture. "He knew. Of cour

uld just make it worse. "He was trying to buy you time, El. Th

lies-her dad wasn't keeping her safe, just delaying the train wreck. And Damien? Not

flat as day-old soda, "they're just playi

eches. Don't count yourself out, though. You go

half-recognized from forbidden storybooks. Mira started reading, her tone getting all heavy and doom-and-gloom. Something about two bloodlines, locked in this anc

only if someone actually chooses real, gnarly, change-your-soul love

d up too fast. Sacrifice. Love. Her. Damien. It just felt

she choked, vision swimmin

y in, babe. But now you know. And knowing? That's power. Yo

ut herbs and weird little talismans that probably had more stories than she did. Mira didn't screw around: "Time to toughen up. Lock down whatever it is that make

high-drama fantasy, curses and secrets flying around like confetti. Forget being just another servant. Apparently, now she's the main event: chosen, powered up, and, oh, by the way, a wal

n up, stubborn as anythin

punch fate itself in the teeth. "Step one: Cleanse. Step two

about to let anyone chew her up and spit her out. She'd figure out whatever the hell her gift was, and use it for herself. The real battle was just getting started, and the wor