Edge’s thumb grazed over the glossy edge of the photo in her hand. A handsome young man stood there, along with his wife. He had neat blond hair and soft blue eyes. The woman next to him was beautiful, her long black hair swept back in the wind. They were wearing old, tattered clothes and standing in front of a very old house, but it didn’t matter.

They were perfect. Smiling as they were frozen in a moment of pure joy.

Occasionally, shards of memory would pierce through her mind. Her father’s hand in hers, a forest, a voice whispering, “You mean the world to me.”

Then the screams came, sharp and terrible. Just like the nightmares.

Her mother screamed at her father. Her father yelled at someone else, begging her mom to stay. He said that he’d be alright, that things would go back to normal. Edge always woke up in pain, because that’s all she could feel.

The photo slipped through her fingers, fluttering down. It landed on her nightstand, and she did her best to forget about it. There was no point in dwelling on the past. They were only memories now, swept away by the current of time.

Darting out of her room, she nearly crashed into her mother as she swung the door open.

“Sorry,” Edge mumbled quietly.

Her mom sighed. “I’m fine.”

She didn’t look fine. Her once beautiful hair was cut short, with little jagged marks all along the ends of it. Her silvery grey eyes were dull, dark circles swallowing them whole. The tan skin she used to have was replaced with a pale colour that hadn’t seen the sun for months.

She had sacrificed everything, working two demanding jobs and getting such little pay from both. It wasn't fair.

Her mother quickly handed her a small paper bag. “For the plane. In case you get hungry.”

“You didn’t have to,” Edge protested, gently taking the bag. “I mean—”

“Shush. It’s already done,” Edge’s mother smiled, looking at her daughter with love. She didn’t see the flaws the rest of the world saw. Rather, the beauty that no one knew existed.

“But…”

Her mother gave her a stern look. “Anyway, I packed a bag for you with your favourite clothes and such. I wish you could bring more, but…”

Sighing, Edge nodded slowly and searched her mother’s guilty face. A sudden thought pried its way into her head, no matter how hard she tried to keep it at bay.

She’s so much like her father. I just hope that she won’t end up as he did.

Looking away, Edge blinked hard. She’d always hidden the fact that she could read minds. And more often than not, she discovered things she never wanted to know in the first place.

“Hey,” her mother said, “I see that face. What’s up?”

“Nothing really. But I shouldn’t be going. You need help. Here.”

”No, I don’t,” She laughed, as if the idea was the funniest thing in the world. “I can take care of myself. But I think this could be a turning point for you.”

A turning point? Yeah, right. Nothing would change the way people felt about her.

A freak.

A freak because she liked wearing dark clothes, had shoulder-length black hair, and eyes so black they blended into the night. Because she was quiet and kept to herself, no matter what.

They called her a goth, even though she wasn’t. Rather, she wore dark clothes because they helped her turn invisible. Helped her tuck away in the shadows.

“I guess,” was all Edge said, however.

“Well…” Her mother hesitated, glancing at the kitchen clock.“I should probably head to work. Don’t forget the bus comes in five minutes.”

“Yeah.”

“And remember I love you, okay? Get that in your brain of yours.”

A small smile tugged at Edge’s lips. “I’ll try.”

“And,” She added one last thing. “Phone me as soon as your plane lands.”

“Okay.”

Edge’s mother gave her a small kiss on the forehead before grabbing her car keys and slipping out the front door. Edge stared after her, feeling worse than she did before

Edge lingered in the quiet hallway, clutching the paper bag to her chest. The house felt emptier than usual. A hush so deep it pressed against her skin. She ran her thumb over the crumpled top of the bag, trying to gather herself. There was a time when she believed her family could never break, that her parents’ laughter and her father’s gentle voice would fill every corner forever. Now, the only echoes were memories, and the faint hope that maybe, somewhere, things could be whole again.

She traced the lines of sunlight on the floorboards, thinking about how much had changed. How she’d changed. Sometimes it felt like she was made of smoke and shadow, someone who could slip unseen through the world, never quite belonging, never quite seen. Maybe camp would be different, or maybe she’d just become better at hiding. Was it possible to miss someone you barely remembered? Edge’s heart ached with the question, and the ache stayed with her as she finally opened the door and stepped outside.

Her eyes traced the pavement’s cracks as she walked down the driveway. Not even the breeze dared to get close. The weight in her heart clung tighter with every step. Her mother had never told her what happened to her father, only that it was a tragic accident. It had to be bad, though. Why else stay silent?

The bus pulled up, and Edge hopped on, heading to the very back. Thoughts trailed behind her like whispers. Some hissed like steam, others scraped like metal, and a few slithered cold and slow. She tried not to react, but they coiled tighter, each one pressing in until breathing felt impossible.

Wish this driver would hurry it up!

I can’t believe I forgot my phone...

And then one thought that made her cringe as she sat down.

Who’s that girl there? She looks...different.

Digging through her neatly organized backpack, she shoved in two black earbuds, trying to drown out the voices.

They didn’t help.

If anything, the voices came sharper. More defined.

It was probably the longest bus ride ever. The city slipped by in a blur of concrete and faded storefronts, but Edge barely noticed the scenery. She pressed her forehead to the cool window, watching beads of rain chase each other down the glass. The low murmur of conversation and the drone of the engine mixed with the constant, prickling static of stray thoughts. She closed her eyes, wishing for silence, for peace, for something like home. But there was only the ache of missing what she couldn’t name, and the sense that she was moving farther from comfort with every mile.

Finally, the bus hissed to a stop at the curb outside the airport. Edge stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder, and stepped off into the rush of travellers and the scent of exhaust. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. This was it. No turning back now.

She stepped through the glass doors, pulse fluttering as she was swallowed by the airport’s bright lights and endless motion. The crowd pressed close—suitcases banging, voices echoing in a dozen languages, a toddler shrieking somewhere. Edge hugged her bag tighter, trying to keep her thoughts from unravelling into so many others. Every stray emotion, impatience, excitement, fear, flickered at the edge of her consciousness, threatening to drown her own.

At the ticket counter, she fumbled for her ID, hands trembling. The attendant barely looked at her, just scanned her ticket and waved her through. Edge mumbled a “thank you” and hurried away. Security was a blur of lines and instructions; she kept her eyes on the floor, moving when told, speaking only when forced.

Finally, and with a raging headache, Edge stepped through the doors into the plane. Her eyes scanned the seats, trying to find an empty one not surrounded by kids. There didn’t seem to be any, however.

Her eyes locked onto a group of four kids. Two boys, two girls. They all looked...scared. As if they were running away from something. She didn’t know why, but she walked over to them, taking a seat in the empty one beside one of the girls. They all glanced over in unison, questions rising up in their minds. She tried to block them, but one slipped through, panic lining every word.

Is she one of them?

“Am I one of who?” Edge couldn’t help but blurt out.

The girl whose thought that was gave her a questioning glance, fidgeting with her light brown hair in a ponytail.

“What do you mean?”

Edge looked down, flushing slightly. “Sorry. Nothing.”

A brief, awkward silence settled over them, stretching just a second too long.

Then a boy who smelled faintly of smoke—and had scorch marks on his cheeks—shrugged, forcing a crooked grin.

“So, do we start with awkward introductions,” he said, “or just wait for someone to start snoring? I’m Kalmar, by the way.”

“I’m Kilah,” one of the girls offered quickly, her green eyes glinting as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile was polite—but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

The other boy hesitated, shoulders slightly hunched. “I...I’m Elias.” He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, not looking at anyone for long.

“Liora,” the last girl said softly, her gaze flicking toward the aisle for a split second before dropping to the floor again.

Everyone turned to Edge. Only Kalmar spoke.

“What about you?”

Edge’s eyes flicked over them, taking in the stiffness in their shoulders, the way none of them seemed fully relaxed. They looked younger than her—but not in the ways that mattered.

“Edge,” she finally said, glancing out the window.

“So...” Kalmar started, leaning back in his seat like he was trying to look casual. “You’re all headed to camp, too, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kilah said a little too quickly, nodding when the others did. She clasped her hands together in her lap. “That’s… the plan.”

Nobody sounded excited.

“I heard they only accept certain kids,” Kalmar added, lowering his voice slightly. “Not just… random ones. Not to brag or anything, but I’m assuming they picked me because I’m just that awesome.”

He grinned again, but his hand drifted unconsciously to his sleeve, rubbing at the faint burn marks.

“I...um...don’t really know,” Elias admitted. “I thought for sure they wouldn’t take me.” His voice dropped near the end, like he wasn’t sure he was supposed to be here at all.

Edge noticed Liora fidgeting again, her fingers tightening around the edge of her seat.

Like she was hiding something.

Edge felt the familiar pull, the urge to reach into her thoughts, to just know. Just for a second...

The intercom crackled to life, making everyone flinch.

“Please fasten your seatbelts, everyone,” the female voice said. “We will be taking off shortly.”

Reluctantly, Edge did as she was told, buckling in her seatbelt with a small click. The sudden hum of the engine filled the room, and Elias took a deep breath. His face was white, posture stiff with anticipation. Kilah gave him a kind smile.

“Sorry. It’s...it’s the first time I’ve been on one. A plane.”

“I’ve been on a lot to visit my grandma in the States. It’s not so bad.” Kilah tried to reassure him.

He offered her a tiny smile. “Okay.”

The plane shuddered as the engines howled, pressing Edge back into her seat. Out the window, the runway blurred—gray streaks and flashes of sunlight, everything rushing faster than she could process.

For a moment, all she could hear was the thrum in her chest and Kalmar’s half-whispered joke (something about putting their lives in the hands of “a flying metal bird”). The nose tilted up, gravity sliding away, and her stomach lurched as the world below shrank to a patchwork of light and shadow.

Edge sighed, letting the vibration and noise drown out the swirl of anxious thoughts, and wondered if anyone else felt as untethered as she did, caught somewhere between the earth and whatever waited above the clouds.

There was a moment of calm as the plane levelled out, the rush of wind roaring past. Liora’s knuckles were clenched tightly, eyes closed as she appeared to fight away the nausea. Elias looked just as sick, fidgeting with his light blue T-shirt and looking anywhere but out the window.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Kalmar said, trying to lighten the mood. Even though his face was pale as well.

“It’s actually really pretty,” Kilah breathed, looking out the window, eyes wide.

“Pretty? Sure...until the plane engine gives out and we all die,” Liora rolled her eyes.

Closing her eyes, Edge drowned out their voices and focused on the thoughts filling her head. For some reason, they seemed... quieter. Usually, they felt like a stampede raging through her head. She could almost never focus on them completely, without throwing up from the headache. But now they felt barely like drums, dimly beating behind her eyelids.

The thoughts became quieter by the second, words fading into the background. A wave of terror clawed at her skin, and the voices disappeared entirely. The first time since...ever, that it’s been totally quiet. Not even one whisper. Not even her own thoughts dared to intrude.

Suddenly, a lone voice rang out, whispery and soft. She felt her consciousness slip away, darkness flooding her. The only thing she knew was the voice.

“Years, and I have found you. The mark of death follows them, but you are spared. For what was lost, returned now.”

The words coiled tighter, suffocating her. They echoed for eternity, growing bigger and bigger until they swallowed her whole. She couldn’t get out of their deathly grip. Forever, she was bound to them.

Without warning, a scream tore Edge away from herself. She gasped, eyes opening to the light again. An alarm was blaring somewhere above her, and she dimly saw Kilah clinging to her seat. Everyone was staring out the window, terrified expressions plastering their faces.

Edge slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, realizing she was on the floor. That didn’t seem to matter much, however, as she locked eyes with the figure outside the window.

A man, tall, broad-shouldered, draped in a shadowy black cloak, stood watching her. His gaze was so steady, so unwavering, that Edge felt pinned beneath it. And beneath him, impossibly, a dragon clung to the wind: scales the colour of old blood, eyes sharp and hungry. Its wings beat against invisible currents, each movement restless, impatient. It stared at her too, gaze piercing and strange, as if it could pick apart her thoughts one by one and see through everything she was trying to hide.

“Edge!” Elias cried, peeling his gaze away from the window with shock. “You...you passed out! And—and a dragon...” His words were so jumbled with the panic that Edge could hardly understand them. His breath came out in ragged sobs.

The plane lurched. Screams pierced the air, raw and panicked. Edge’s nails dug into the armrest. The lights above flickered, casting frantic shadows over wide, terrified eyes. Overhead, the intercom crackled: “Remain calm. Just a slight disturbance with the engines.”

The words felt paper-thin, useless.

Edge risked a glance out the window. The cloaked figure and the dragon were gone. Only empty clouds stared back. Her stomach twisted.

“This is not how I pictured summer camp!” Kalmar clutched the armrest, and Kilah’s lips moved soundlessly, a silent plea for help.

Another jolt, harder this time. The engine’s roar stuttered before it died completely. For a heartbeat, the world held its breath. Then gravity vanished. The plane dropped, sharp and sudden. Edge’s body lifted from the seat; her heart slammed against her ribs.

Liora stared wild-eyed at the ceiling, lips pressed tight, refusing to make a sound. More screams followed. Children, adults, it didn’t matter. The taste of blood filled her mouth as her head slammed against the seat, her vision blurring.

She gasped, breath coming too fast, too shallow. Every muscle locked. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the urge to scream. The air was thick, buzzing with static and fear.

Hands, real or imagined, clamped onto her shoulders. A whisper slid past her ear: “You have much to finish.”

Something cold and ancient pressed against her mind. Then, nothing.