Chapter 1

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It all began with a fire, an all-consuming fire that swallowed a building in our neighborhood and sent a whirling feeling of fear and questions. No one knew how it sparked, but we are all solemnly aware of the tragic fate it brought.

I sit in my living room, with Fitz settled on the couch beside me, and Sophie and Biana are nestled, each in their chair, nearby.

"Did anyone hear from Keefe or Dex?" I ask them

"No," Fitz answers, "but that doesn't mean we need to worry."

I worry, anyway. Fitz knows it. He reaches for my arm and pulls it towards him. He absentmindedly delivers chills up and down my arm.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I whip it out. I swipe to open the message that reads, 'Are these your friends?' attached with a picture of Dex and Keefe. To whoever sent me the picture, I am forever grateful.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I stand up and announce, "we are going to Café Chariot!"

"Elsa," my mom calls from the kitchen, and I sometimes forget how thin the walls are, "I rather you not go. We don't know who's lurking around."

"But Mom," I argue, "I have to see them. Plus, I'm not going alone; safety in numbers."

"Fine," she conceded, "but be careful."

A few minutes later, we walk into Café Chariot, along with the welcoming chime of the bell. I immediately spot Dex and Keefe huddled in a booth and ran over. I wrap my arms around Dex, my best friend, at the same time that I say, "you guys have a lot of explaining to do."

"Nice to see you too," says Keefe, while mussing his hair.

Biana, Fitz, and Sophia pull over chairs and join the table.

Keefe puts on his serious voice and begins, "Dex and I were walking on Gulon street when we saw the building go up in flames. We couldn't tear our eyes away at first, but when Dex managed to, he noticed a man standing on the corner. He told me to look, and just as I did, the man pulled out an orb from his jacket pocket, and suddenly we felt the need to run. So we ran and ran until we came here. We needed to catch our breath and talk about what happened." He looks at me, "we were going to tell you all everything."

"Ya," Dex jumped in, "and Keefe drew what he remembered seeing. It isn't much, but it's something."

I admire Keefe's drawing, which is fantastic, as always. The sketch depicts a skinny man with a grey bread peeking out and holding a glowing orb.

"Wow," I say, "well, I'm glad you guys are okay."

"So are we," Dex states, "now let's order food. I'm starving."

We all nod in agreement.

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