Sparks in the fire
The living room smelled of old books and burnt toast, the kind of cozy chaos that came with six girls cramming for midterms. Textbooks and notebooks were everywhere. Lily sat cross-legged on the rug, scribbling tiny answers onto index cards with a guilty grin.
“Lily… you can’t cheat,” Mia scolded, brows furrowed. “That’s not fair.”
Lily giggled nervously. “Relax! It’s just a little help.”
Before anyone could argue, Zoe plucked the cards from Lily’s hand and flicked them into the fireplace. Flames devoured them instantly, curling the ink into smoke.
“Whoa! That was dramatic,” Lily said, backing away as the others laughed.
But Aria didn’t laugh. She didn’t move at all. Her eyes had gone pale—almost silver—and she leaned toward the fire as though it were whispering to her alone. The flames twisted unnaturally, coiling in shapes that pulsed like living things. For a heartbeat, it seemed as if they bent toward her, eager, hungry, waiting for command.
“Aria?” Harper nudged her shoulder. “You okay?”
The firelight snapped back to normal. Aria blinked, forcing her eyes away. She gave a thin smile. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.”
But the lie tasted like ash. Because something inside her had stirred with the fire’s heat—something that had been waiting for this moment. And Aria knew, though she would never admit it aloud, that tonight the world had shifted. And it would never shift back.
