❝ We have calcium in our bones, iron in our veins, carbon in our souls and nitrogen in our brains, 93 percent stardust with souls made of flames, we're all just stars that have people names. ❞ -Nikita Gill

The unease spread like a current of electricity through mom's face. She looked down at her feet, almost as if she was ashamed. When she lifted her gaze again, her pupils were dilating and her lids retracted the slightest bit. I knew that look. Dread.

"Mom?" I asked warily.

All of a sudden, she buried her face in her palms, a sigh of resignation leaving her lips. My brows shot up. I exchanged a quizzical look with Breeze McBon. Her greenish-brown eyes were scrunched as she studied mom's face. I tried to distinguish whether it was concentration or worry, but Breeze McBon wasn't someone easy to read.

"All right," mom finally spoke, lifting her head. Her voice sounded strangled. "I knew this day would come eventually."

As her lids fluttered open, I winced at the sight of her eyes all swollen and bloodshot.

"M-Mom," I swallowed. "W-What do you mean?"

She cleared her throat, staring at me dead in the eye. A weird feeling settled in the pit of my stomach-another look of hers I knew too well. It was the look she always gave me whenever there was something of grave importance she wanted to discuss.

"Polly," she began. "Perhaps I haven't been a hundred percent sincere with you."

The beatings of my heart increased. I didn't respond, only held my breath and let her continue.

"Listen, honey, I am sure you are aware that you're not an ordinary child. I know I have been harsh with you when it came to . . . magic." She flinched as the word left her mouth, like it was venomous on her tongue. "But I knew that if I made it known that I was aware of your . . . unusualness, you would demand further information, just like you've done about your father. Which I'm sorry to say that I still cannot give you, for reasons that I can't tell you just yet." She stole a glance at Breeze McBon, like a student who has just answered a question in class and is looking at the teacher for approval that they answered correctly. "You just . . . you just have to trust me on this."

Profound silence followed her words. She probably thought I'd say something in response, but I didn't. I only looked at her.

"When I was pregnant with you, this woman," mom continued, gesturing to the deputy headmistress. "Came to visit me. She told me who she was, where she came from and that I was about to give birth to a child with special abilities. She promised me that one day, when you were older and more mature, she'd come to take you to a very secure place full of other special people like yourself. She told me to trust her that you'd be in a better place and she'd look after you. Just as she had your dad."

She paused for a moment, lowering her head. I still did not utter a single word, but the last sentence echoed in my head. Breeze McBon knew my dad? My dad was a wizard? My dad attended Hogwarts?

"Of course, I didn't believe her right away. In fact, the very next day I told myself it had probably been just a dream." Mom laughed softly. "But to be honest, I always dreaded the day your special abilities would make an appearance. At the age of seven, I began to see strange signs, but I tried to ignore them."

"Seven. The age by which magic reveals itself in a wizard or a witch," Breeze chimed in to explain, though she didn't need to. It was an information I was already familiar with, being the Harry Potter geek I was.

"I know your life hasn't been the easiest, Polly." As she looked up again, her chocolate eyes were watery, guilt swimming in them. "Maybe I've been too harsh on you, but if I told you that I knew . . . everything . . . I'd have no way of answering all your questions that would follow afterwards."

I clenched my jaw, taking a deep breath. Mom's distressed eyes sought mine, but I tried my best to look anywhere but her way.

"I'm sorry, darling," she whispered.

"Oh, so you're sorry." I let out a derisive laugh. My shoulders heaved with every breath I took to calm my increased heart rate. Every nerve within me started boiling. "Because that's supposed to make everything okay, right?"

Mom sighed. "Polly, I know it probably means nothing now-"

"Well, what do you expect me to say now, mom?" I practically shrieked. "Congratulate you for being such a great actor and pretending all along you had no freaking idea? Thank you for ruining my life? You-you have always been everything . . . the only family I've ever had. Everybody else turned against me: the students and the teachers at school, the neighbors . . . I was bullied! Feared! And I hoped I could at least find some support and consolation in my own mother . . . But you would always speak with such contempt about something I was passionate about. You'd make me feel like-like there was something wrong with me. I-I had no one to turn to. Do you realize how that feels?"

I couldn't tell whether the tears belonged to me or mom. Probably me, since the sight of her was blurry and my eyes stung. Perhaps both.

"I-I'm sorry, h-honey," she repeated breathily.

I shook my head, giving a tight-lipped smile. "It doesn't matter. It makes no difference now."

Only when I saw shuffling on mom's right did I remember that Breeze still stood there. She got up from the sofa awkwardly.

"I have to go now," she said. "There is a lot of work awaiting me back at Hogwarts. It was a pleasure to see you again, Mrs Kin." Then she turned to me. "Polly, I will come around the end of August to take you to Diagon Alley so you can buy the school uniform and all the required supplies."

Right when I opened my mouth to respond, she disappeared into thin air like she'd done the first time we met.

"Yeah, goodbye to you too!" I shouted to the empty living room.

How I would be able to sleep that night, after everything that happened within the past twelve hours alone, I had no idea.

"P-Polly?" mom's trembling voice pulled me from my thoughts.

"Don't." I warned, closing my eyes. Then, I turned my back to her and left the living room.

As soon as I entered my bedroom, I locked the door behind me and flopped onto my bed. Closing my eyes, I replayed all the events of that day in my head-from the moment I found the acceptance letter in my mailbox to the conversation I had with mom after Breeze McBon delivered her the news.

The sound of my ringtone was invasive in the silent room, making me jump up in shock. I reached for my phone on the night stand and pressed the green button.

"Yes, Roche?"

"Sloth! Thank God you finally picked up. What's up with you? Is everything okay?"

"What are you talking about? You've never called."

"Uh-huh, sure I haven't," she said, her tone reflecting more concern than sarcasm. "Honestly, are you alright? This morning you sounded very worried about some letter or something. I assumed you'd had another one of those weird dreams of yours, but now . . . you're beginning to scare me."

Rochelle was my best friend, and she had always been there for me, but I didn't feel comfortable telling her the truth. Not right now at least, when I still hadn't fully wrapped my head around it either.

"Rochelle, I'm fine," I lied. "I've just had a very long day."

"Come on, you have been home all day!" she scoffed. "That doesn't sound very eventful to me. Tell me Sloth, what's going on?"

I laughed. "Will you stop calling me that?"

"Hm, I don't think so."

When me and Rochelle's friendship had developed into a closer bond than just schoolmates, she decided to give me a nickname. After all the afternoons we spent together at my house, she quickly came to the (very accurate) conclusion that I didn't lead the most active life. So the nickname 'Sloth' was born, since the animals were arguably the laziest in the kingdom, spending most of their day sleeping or hanging on trees.

The nickname had stuck ever since.

"Really, though," she said. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine, Roche. Really."

It was a lie-and I hated lies more than anything-but I wasn't ready to tell her the truth just yet. How would she even react to it?

Perhaps Rochelle realized something was off, but she didn't push it any further. That's what I liked about her: she understood.

"Alrighty then, if you say so." She let out a loud yawn. "I'm going to bed. Haven't been able to sleep properly ever since you woke me up with at five freaking thirty."

"Oops," I said innocently.

"I'll get my revenge someday."

"Sure you will."

"I will. Now I'm shutting off my phone before you come up with another ridiculous reason to disturb my beloved sleep. Night, Sloth."

"Goodnight, Roche."

As I ended the call, my heart felt lighter. Talking to Rochelle was just what I needed to brighten my mood and get my mind off everything I'd encountered today. Just the thought that I'd have to leave her behind when I went to Hogwarts in the fall made a sickening feeling well up in my stomach.

Breeze's words rang in my ears, I will come around the end of August to take you to Diagon Alley so you can buy the school uniform and all the required supplies.

Diagon Alley . . . The words echoed in my ears and I allowed my thoughts to wander further than they had any time before. Because there were no restrictions to my imagination now. Nobody was going to tell me to get my feet back on the ground, mom wouldn't snap me awake after some lovely dream. This time, I wasn't just daydreaming-this was my life.

Never before had I longed for the new school year to come faster. But this year, I knew everything would change. And now that I'd gotten an official confirmation of my witch identity, I could already tell this would be the most boring and dreary summer of my life.