Chapter 1: Class Assignment

September 13th

Dear Christopher,

My name is Areyn Gabrielle Pryce. I'm 9 years old and have four brothers. I'm in the 4th grade at The School of the Blessed Redeemer and am writing to you as a class project for Ms. J. She told us that you're from Canada though, so I'm excited about the project. I've never written to someone in Canada before. What's it like up there. Is it really cold? Frank said that it snows all the time up there and that you use another kind of thermometer to tell the temperature. Do you live in an igloo like they do in Alaska? I hope you are doing well in Canada.

Sincerely,

Areyn

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October 5th

Dear Areyn,

You have a cool name. I'm 9 too and I go to Finch Elementary in BC. We're doing this for a project too, but I like writing anyway so that's okay. I only have one sister. We call her Dweezer. Do you like your brothers? What are their names? My mom and dad liked your letter. Tell your friend that it does not snow up here all the time, but we have really cold winters. We use Celsius to measure temperature, but we don't live in igloos. My birthday is July 16th. What do you do for fun? Have a happy Thanksgiving!

Sincerely,

Chris

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November 16th

Dear Chris,

It is not Thanksgiving until next week, but thanks anyway. I know because my dad's birthday is the day after this year. My real mom's birthday was in July too! My birthday is April 16th, so I am older than you. I sing and read for fun. Ms. J helped me look up British Columbia on a map yesterday, but we could not find Fort Saint John. I wish I had a sister. My brothers are a real pain sometimes. Their names are Lewis, Mackenzie, Jerome, and Matthew. I'm the second oldest in line. How about you? Hey, do you guys celebrate Christmas up there?

Sincerely,

Areyn

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"Why are you sending the letters all the way to Canada," Areyn's stepmother asked pointedly while the girl squirmed in her seat. The woman was short and squat, with stringy brown hair that was clearly falling out. The teacher being addressed had to wonder at the contrast between Areyn's stepmother and her real mother. Angela had been beautiful and curvy, with smooth dark skin and long braided hair before the cancer had mercilessly ravaged and devastated her body. It was clear that Angela's daughter would someday bear similar features. The girl looking desperately unhappy in her desk did not have her stepmother's commanding presence though, which the flabby woman was currently using to try to intimidate the teacher sitting in front of her.

Ms. J sighed heavily, pulling some of her long, blond hair back into a reluctant bun and wishing once more that her childhood friend had not died of that cancer the year before. Angela would have at least tried to understand this project and what it could mean to educational practices. Keva on the other hand...

"The woman I'm coordinating this project with, Mrs. Wertamer, is quite a distinguished member of the Albertan Teacher's Council of Canada. She is also a good friend of mine. We both feel that this project will foster cultural awareness and a spirit of cooperation-"

"They could learn that in other ways," the new Mrs. Pryce pressed heatedly. "This project of yours is a waste of time and money."

"Well, I'm very sorry you feel that way," the younger of the two women responded calmly. "Actually, the cost of sending these children's letters is nominal. I am paying for the stamps and envelopes out of my own pocket. As for the time spent, Samantha and I both feel that just having the experience of writing to someone in another country is worth more than any other assignment we could give them. If you could only see how happy they are writing to their new friends, you would understand why we're doing this."

The girl's stepmother took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself before attempting to argue. It was not helping that the teacher sitting across from her did not seem phased by her anger. "I just feel that my daughter should be focusing on her studies rather than this Canadian nonsense."

"With all due respect, Mrs. Pryce," Ms. J began, sounding exasperated; "Areyn is one of the smartest students in my class. Her studies are going exceptionally well, as her grades more than adequately reflect."

"Mom?" Both women looked over as if just remembering the girl was there. "Mom, why don't you like Chris? He's really smart and nice. And you said-"

"Areyn, go wait in the car."

"She can't," the teacher interjected before the girl could respond. "Her part in this parent-teacher conference is to show you around the classroom."

"I saw my daughter's classroom in the ten minutes it took you to finish with the last parent. I chose this time because I have two more children's teachers to see."

"I understand your concerns. In fact, several parents have had similar complaints. But this is a part of the process that we've been practicing for the last two weeks."

"And I've seen her work already. Right now I'd like to discuss this 'Pen Pal' project further and-"

"There is nothing further to discuss, Mrs. Pryce. This project has been presented and unanimously approved by the Archdiocese. Unless you have a specific ethical concern about my methods, her grade will include participation in this project."

"I will be speaking to Sr. Nancy about this," the woman glared.

Ariel marveled yet again at her friend's husband's choice of wife. Reginald had met Keva during the final stages of his wife's illness. They started seeing each other three months before his wife had died and were married three months later in a small, private ceremony. She had not been invited to the wedding, but that was to be expected. Keva tended to view any woman in her husband's life as competition.

"As I said, you are welcome to take this up with the principal, the school board, or Cardinal Bevilaqua himself, but unless you have a specific ethical concern, they will all support my judgment on this matter." A tense silence spun out between the two women as they each prepared for the next skirmish. Meanwhile, the fourth-grader sitting between them tried her best to disappear. Sensing the young girl's desire to be gone, Ms. J relented a little.

"Mrs. Pryce, although I do have universal academic approval for this project, you have to understand how closely both my colleague and I are being monitored. I had to get approval from the Philadelphia School Board, the Pennsylvania Board of Education, and the International Teacher's Union before I could even suggest this project to the executive PTA Board."

"If your project is so harmless, Ariel, why did you have to go to so much trouble," the older woman challenged, triumph ringing in her voice.

"To cover the higher-ups," Ms. J answered with a disgusted frown, forgetting her anger at the woman sitting across from her as she remembered how much resistance she had met up with when introducing this study to her superiors. "Because no one has ever tried something like this before, everyone is doing their best to put all the blame on me if things go wrong, Keva." Areyn's teacher fell silent at that, but this time the angry stepmother simply waited for her to continue.

"I don't just hand my students paper and let them go at it. I read over each draft before allowing them to read and discuss them as a group. It takes up to a week for each batch of letters to be ready. And, yes, I've had students rewrite parts of their letters that seemed too personal. I've never had to do that with your stepdaughter's letters, however. She seems to have a very firm understanding of what she calls 'family business'. And as I mentioned in the permission slip I sent back in September, I have copies of all the letters Areyn has sent so far, along with her partner's reply. Please feel free to have a look at them anytime."

"How many more letters will she be sending?"

"The project is over in June, Mrs. Pryce. All of this information was in the packet I sent home with Areyn on the first day of school."

Keva's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "In that packet, you made is sound like the class would be sending one group letter each time."

"The original plan was for one group letter," Ms. J replied, rooting through a stack of papers with a sigh. "But each of our supervisors advised us that that method would not give us the results we would need for our joint report. That is why I sent this," she held up a half-sheet of yellow paper, "to inform every parent that we were changing that aspect of the project."

"I've never seen that paper," the mother said, glaring at her stepdaughter as if daring her to disagree. The girl did not notice this as she was still attempting to will herself out of the room.

"Perhaps you don't remember it because you signed it and sent it back with her the next day," the teacher suggested, handing over an identical paper that bore the woman's signature. "I'm sure that we both are acting in Areyn's best interest, but you agreed to this project long before the first letter was sent. I assure you that no private information is being given out by any of these children, as the only real correspondence is between Mrs. Wertamer and me. We talk with the children as a group and individually about their letters and the responses. Many have even said they'd like to continue talking with their pen pals after the project is over. The only complaints I've received have come from one other upset parent besides you. Out of thirty-two parents, I would say that your concerns are not enough to stop this." Areyn's mother looked as if she was swallowing a particularly sour lemon, but Ms. J pressed on.

"We are taking all feedback into account of course, but we are not going to stop the project for no good reason. Your stepdaughter is exceptional, Mrs. Pryce. She's smart, she's dedicated, and I believe that her creativity and writing skills are going to come in handy in the years to come. Her mother would have been proud," Ariel put in, smiling at her student fondly. Now, if you truly don't wish to participate in the 'classroom tour' we've arranged for you, this conference is over." With that, the woman stood and left the classroom, looking harassed.

"Go wait by the car, Areyn," Keva growled, seething with hatred. How dare that bitch bring up Reggie's first wife like that! She would have liked nothing better than to transfer her new children out of this wicked school where Angela's school chum taught, but the Archdiocese would not allow it. She would just have to work harder to convince Reggie that another move would be best for them all.

Areyn slumped in her seat, but then stood quickly before her stepmother noticed. The girl knew better than to disobey or try to convince the woman of anything right now. She hurried out of the classroom, crumpling the badge she was supposed to give her mother after the 'tour' was over.

"At least my real mom would have been proud of me," she comforted herself.

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December 18th

Dear Areyn,

Yes, Santa gets to Canada on December 25th every year. Dweezer and I have already made our lists. She's younger than me, by the way. Pepper (our dog) is very excited as well because my grandma is here and she brought lots of food with her! It smells really good in the house right now. Mrs. Wertamer is letting us write our letters at home this time and bring them in tomorrow.

Grammy said to say 'hi' and to wish you and your family a merry Christmas. Hope to hear from you soon.

Sincerely,

Chris

P.S. What do you mean, 'your real mom'?

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January 13th

Dear Chris,

Christmas was great. We went to church and the singing was beautiful. We also got lots of presents. Lala (my grandmother) stopped by, but my favorite uncle, Uncle Jimmy, was in town from Massachusetts! I have a ton of relatives, and I think we saw almost all of them during the break, but Uncle Jimmy is just plain cool. He's really smart and easy to talk to.

Ms. J suggested that I join the choir the other day. I haven't talked to Ms. Keva about it yet, but I'd really like to. I really love singing, after all. Anyway, I hope your family is doing well.

Sincerely,

Areyn

P.S. My mother died last year. She was real sick and in a lot of pain though, so I'm glad she's with God now. My dad remarried, so I have a stepmother.

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February 13th

Dear Areyn,

I'm glad your Christmas was good. My Uncle Guido appar stopped by just to see Dweezer and me. He's my mom's really crazy brother. I hope you talked to your parents about the choir. You sound like singing is really important to you. That's like drawing for me. I can't sing, but I can draw. Dweezer is better than I am at it though. It's sort of how we get along. What about you and your brothers? Everyone is doing great here. How's your family? I'm sorry to hear about your mom.

Sincerely,

Chris

P.S. I know it's a little early, but happy Valentine's Day. Here's a card I made for you.

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March 15th

Dear Chris,

Saint Patrick's Day is so much fun! It's still 3 days away and still everyone is so jolly! We had to do art projects with leprechauns and mine was horrible. I don't draw that well. I kind of wish I could get along with my brothers the way that you do with your sister. We fight most of the time, and we don't have anything in common. They love playing outside and sports and stuff. I'm an indoor person. I read and study while they play. They think I'm a goody-two-shoes, but I don't care. Judy Blume's my favorite author. What kind of books do you read? Are you an outdoor person?

Sincerely,

Areyn

P.S. I know I'm late, but happy Valentine's Day. See, I made you a card. And thank you for yours.

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April 16th

Dear Areyn

Thank you for the Valentine's Day card. I keep it with my art stuff, I hope you don't mind. I'm glad Saint Patrick's Day was so much fun for you. It's great up here too. Lots of Irish stuff and rainbows. It rained on St. Patrick's Day this year. Mom and Dad piled us in the car and we went looking for the end of the rainbow when it appeared. We didn't find it, but we had tons of fun searching for that pot of gold! We do things like that sometimes. There's lots of space and forests and stuff here to get lost in. I'm going to miss it too. We're moving to Alberta after the school year. Dad got a job there and we all have to go. I think I'll miss visiting Grammy and Gramps the most though. They're fun to be around and they know a lot about mag life. Maybe we can keep writing over the summer. Would you mind that?

Happy Birthday! Hope you like my little present. Mom said it was a good idea, and now you'll have a piece of Canada in the States.

Sincerely,

Chris

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May 13th

Dear Chris,

You remembered my birthday! Thank you so much for the shell. It's so beautiful! I keep it in my room. I use your valentine as a bookmark, okay? I know what you mean about moving though. I had to move at the end of last year. Dad really didn't want to stay where we were. He said that we needed a change, and my step mom agreed. I didn't really have any friends though, so that part wasn't so bad. I don't like this new school very much. Most of the kids at my school have been together since kindergarten. But I have my books and the choir to keep me busy and happy. I bet you have lots of friends, and once you move, you'll get even more. Just have your BC friends write to you. I'm sure you'll be fine. I'd love to keep writing to you over the summer. Then I can surprise you on your birthday!

Sincerely,

Areyn

P.S. I'm glad you're my friend.

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Ariel Jayalaxmi looked over this, Areyn's latest letter with a deep sigh. Areyn used to be so quiet and withdrawn, all but refusing to speak to her classmates. Since meeting her pen pal, however, her participation in class and with the other students had drastically improved. He seemed to be a wonderful influence on her, and according to Samantha, the feeling was mutual. The fact that the two were becoming the best of friends warmed her heart.

The problem was her stepmother. If Keva had her way, the two would never have met. And if she knew the woman, Areyn would not be allowed to continue her friendship with Chris beyond the official project. She had sent her students home with letters offering to take care of any letters they wished to send letters over the summer, but even that would not help Areyn's situation. It was heartbreaking to see them so happy and hopeful, knowing that Chris' letter next month would likely be the last time they ever heard from each other.

"Ariel?" The teacher smiled despite herself. The woman in front of her was tall, extremely thin, and knobby despite all the food she regularly ate. She had jet black hair and a nose a little too big for her face. Ariel could never seem to look at her friend without thinking of Popeye's girlfriend, Olive Oil.

"Just thinking about our little problem, Sam. I can't see a way around it."

"But if the parents knew-"

"It's not our place to tell them," Ariel interjected in a world-weary tone. "She hasn't even started presenting as a witch; none of the children have. For all we know they might be Dunces. We can't use a possibility to force Keva into letting them stay friends. There's just not enough evidence in this situation for that. Besides, only a headmaster has the right to introduce Regs to the magical world." This was an old argument, and the fact that her friend refused to drop it annoyed her.

"So, the parents are truly not magical?" Samantha asked sadly.

"Non-magical AND deeply religious." Both women cringed, knowing just how dangerous a combination that could be. "Heck, even her mother was a regular, but at least she was somewhat tolerant. With her gone, Arc-Professor Good will have a difficult time with the Pryces."

"We both know how good he is with these situations," Sam reassured with a friendly pat on the back. "Wizards and witches are so delicate at this age, though... Is there anything we can do?"

"Prepare them as best we can for whatever comes, I guess. Have you told Chris' mother the situation yet?"

"Of course," Sam answered. "She seems to think that if she contacts Areyn's parents, they can come to an understanding. She's actually planning to send a letter with Chris' next month. Is the father against this too?"

"Of course not," Ariel smirked. "All Reginald seems to want is someone to look after his kids while he works himself to death. I doubt he even knows about this. I doubt he even remembers his children's names," she finished darkly. She often felt that she should hate Reggie, both for allowing his wife to go through the final stages of her illness practically alone and for all but abandoning his five children after she died. But all she could ever manage was pity, or occasionally, exasperation. Reggie had never been a strong man. She doubted he could have handled the children at all without another strong woman there to take Angela's place at the helm. His choice for a replacement mother, however, left much to be desired.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said 'maybe you should warn the poor girl'," Sam repeated a little impatiently. "Judging from her last letter, it sounds like she's in denial about the whole business.

Ariel nodded. "Good idea," she sighed, handing over that month's stack of letters. "At least she'll have a chance to say goodbye if I can manage it." She looked her friend over. "I'm sorry, Sam. I know we usually have a girl's night out when we meet up for the month, but I honestly don't feel much like partying right now."

In a rare moment of insight, Sam chose not to argue. "It's really getting to you, isn't it?" she asked instead, settling into a chair for the time being.

"Of course it is," Ariel snapped, pacing angrily. "You're lucky, you know. The most you have to worry about is keeping the ones from Mugwump families from including magic references in their letters. Want to know what Keva's doing now? She's trying to put a motion through the PTA and the school board blocking all projects like ours in the future. She claims that I'm exploiting my students AND she's trying to have me put before an ethics committee!"

"What," Sam gasped, outraged. "You can't be serious! What could she possibly-"

"According to her, I've been coercing my students into writing their letters. Which, of course, they didn't want to do."

"She's reaching," the woman grinned, standing up to stop her distressed friend's pacing. "The kids want to write the letters! And even if they didn't, teachers make students do assignments and projects that don't want to do all the time. If that's unethical, then we're ALL out of a job!" Ariel laughed heartily at this, and Samantha breathed a sigh of relief. Ariel had laughed precious little since Keva Pryce started her campaign against the Pen Pal project. The woman was insufferable from the American teacher's reports. But the simple truth was, Keva could not stop this project, and she wouldn't be able to stop any future projects of this nature either. That boded ill for her stepdaughter, but in the grand scheme of things, Keva's obvious lack of power with those in power was actually a very good thing.

"Okay, you right," Ariel admitted between chuckles, bringing Sam back to the present. "I know she's got nothing, but she's calling a lot of undue attention to us. I'm afraid that the board might give in just to shut her up."

"They won't," Sam smiled. "If she's calling so much attention to herself, everyone's going to know she's insane and likely desperate too. Come on, now," she added playfully, "I'm not even a Christian and I know to have some faith."

"Okay, okay! You win," Ariel gave in. "So, what type of food this month?" She started laughing anew at Sam's elated look. "Well, we do have a paper to write."

"I'm thinking Chinese," she answered happily. "I'm really starting to like that 'shrimp lo mein'."

"Done. Did you bring my poutine?" she asked absently as she ordered the takeout.

"As promised," Sam grinned, conjuring a steaming bowl of fries and cheese smothered in gravy, along with her books and notes. "The Professor Flooed me yesterday, by the way."

"Apparation is so much nicer," Ariel broke in with a sigh, "and neater too. I-"

"But you can't apparate to or from Northloft," Sam shrugged. "And there's no place for miles safe for it. Anyway," she interrupted Ariel before the woman could start bemoaning the point, "he has some really good ideas on how to submit our paper to the University. Our numbers are kinda small, but if we use a subgroup of Mugwump children as a focus, we could pull it off."

"Leave it to the Professor to have the best ideas," Ariel nodded. "You're right, though. Our numbers are kinda small. I think it'll look better as a case study. Or maybe a pilot for a larger study of magical preadolescents. What do you think?"

"That's what he said! You're good at this," Sam cheered. The two settled to brainstorming the papers after that, each confident that the Pryce situation would work itself out eventually.

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June 6th

Dear Areyn,

My mom said that we might not be able to write each other after this. She said that your stepmother might not let us. Why? Mom couldn't explain it, but I thought you might be able to.

Sincerely,

Chris

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Areyn swallowed the lump in her throat. Her stepmom had told her before that she wasn't supposed to cry outside of her room.

"Ms. J? She wouldn't really forbid me to write to Chris again, would she?"

Ariel sighed heavily, feeling close to tears herself. She had asked the girl to stay behind during lunch so that she could read her letter before the others and they could talk about it in private. She just had not been able to bring herself to talk to her student until now. She knew now, as she watched the child struggle not to cry, the depth of her mistake.

"Honey, you know how your stepmother feels about this project. You had to realize -"

"But we're not bothering anyone! And it won't effect my studies, I promise," she yelled desperately. "She hasn't even bothered to read our letters and she still won't tell me a real reason why she doesn't want me write to him! Why can't she see-"

"Because she doesn't want to see," the woman put in gently. "You're right; this has nothing to do with your grades. It's not about you at all."

"Then what does it have to do with," the girl shouted. "She won't even talk to me about this. Whenever I ask, she just sends me to my room!"

Ariel pulled the shaking girl into a hug. The woman was not surprised to hear that Keva refused to talk to her stepdaughter about the project. She was the kind of woman that felt that her word was law and should go unquestioned by everyone, especially her step-children. As to her not bothering to read the girl's letters despite her moral outrage at the project, the only reason Ariel had not mentioned this at the multiple PTA meetings was her fear that Keva might take their friendship as something else and use that to make things worse.

"What did you say, Areyn?"

"My real mom would have let me write to Chris," she mumbled miserably.

"Angela - your mother - wouldn't have liked this project either, sweetie," the teacher answered honestly. "But she wouldn't have made you stop until you gave her reason to. Like if your grades actually did drop," she finished. "She was tough and stubborn, like your stepmother. But she was also fair."

This seemed to comfort the girl. She nodded, backing away to wipe her face surreptitiously. "So that's it?"

"I'm not sure," Ariel sighed, handing over another letter. "I want you to take this home to your stepmom. It's a letter from his mother. She wanted to try and reason with Ke-your stepmother. This is our last resort. If they can't work things out, then that will be it. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, okay?"

"How could I," the girl muttered miserably.

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Keva sat shaking with fury, staring at the letter her daughter had brought home with her. Ariel had some nerve involving the Canadian brat's mother in this. Now she would need to write and tell the woman to stay out of this. And she would have to be civil too. Keva growled softly in frustration. She would have that teacher's head for this!

"When did you get this, Areyn?"

"Ms. J gave it to me this afternoon." Keva looked the girl over for any signs of deceit and, finding none, waved her out of the living room.

"Um..."

The woman glared, knowing what was coming next. "I don't want to hear it, Areyn. You are my daughter and I will not have you distracted from your schoolwork by this."

"But school ends tomorrow! Why can't we as least write over the summer?"

"Because when September rolled around we would be having this same conversation all over again. In my opinion, that boy has become a bad influence on you. This time last year-"

"My mother would have at least listened to me," Areyn said miserably. The sound of the slap was quite impressive. Keva was surprised that the child was not sobbing already. When she finally turned around, Keva saw why: the girl looked furious. Angry tears stood out in her eyes and she looked ready to continue the argument.

"You'd better fix your face before I fix it for you," she growled dangerously. The girl made some visible effort to 'fix her face', but result was not very convincing. Keva pushed on despite this, knowing that the angry stare would not be leaving her face, no matter how slack-jawed she became. "Don't you ever say that again. I am your mother now and I am doing what's best for you. You'll understand when you're older."

"Why do I have to be older to understand," Areyn shot back, surprising the woman. "You're not waiting for me to be older at all, are you? You're just waiting for me to forget."

"Go to your room, young lady. I will deal with you later."

"Why won't you answer me? You keep sending me away like some little kid-"

Keva grabbed her, shaking her angrily. "You think you're not, you insolent little girl? How dare you disrespect your mother by questioning her! Go to your room!" She pushed the girl away from her at that, not trusting herself to look at Areyn at the moment.

"I'm just asking for a reason."

"You don't need any other reason besides 'because I say so', little girl."

"Why won't you tell me," Areyn continued as if she had not been interrupted. "You're always telling everyone how smart I am. Why can't you tell me why?"

"Go to your ROOM!"

"What's the point," the child yelled back, looking scared but determined. "Tomorrow you'll tell me that I can't eat anymore and you won't have a reason for that either! He's my friend! Why won't you let me talk to him anymore?

"Go to your room, Areyn," the woman tried again, closing her eyes and praying for strength.

"Why can't you just answer?"

"I said to go to your room, Areyn. And you're not getting any dinner tonight!"

"I JUST NEED TO KNOW WHY?"

"I SAID 'GO TO YOUR ROOM'!

"WHY!" Just then a strong wave of energy washed over the living room, knocking the woman off her feet. The pulse blanketed the room, pushing on everything around Keva in the second it took to appear until all of the windows on the first floor exploded outwards. The sound was deafening; in the back of her mind Keva was grateful that her sons and husband weren't around with all the glass flying. This thought her back to her daughter and her head snapped up to see if the child was okay after such a large gas explosion.

'Where's the fire,' her mind piped up. It was true, there was no fire enveloping the room, nor was there the smell of gas in the air. So, what was happening?

Areyn looked as if she were in a state of shock. Her chest was heaving and her eyes were wild. "Honey..." The girl's head swiveled slowly around until her deep brown eyes met her mother's, and for the first time, Keva felt afraid of the child.

"Why won't you tell me?" she whispered desperately.

"Go to your room, Areyn," she answered, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I just want an answer," she continued quietly as if she hadn't been interrupted.

The woman opened her mouth to answer and felt her lungs tighten. "Go to your room." It felt strange that she should feel like she was suffocating under that unblinking gaze, especially with the glass from both of the living room windows covering her.

"Tell me why. Please?" There was no longer any air to draw on to answer the child, she was sure of it. Her vision was blurring, but no matter how dim and hazy it got, the girl's eyes remained clear. Clear and sharp and innocently focused on a woman that could not provide answers anymore.

I just want to know," the girl whispered, apparently unable to drop the subject.

Before she blacked out, the woman heard very clearly "Stupify!" There was a flash of red light and the girl went limp. As the air rushed back into her lungs, Keva looked up to see their elderly next door neighbor, Mr. Duncan, standing outside on the front porch, pointing a... stick at her fallen daughter.

"May I come in," he asked kindly. Not waiting for an answer, he climbed into the house and helped the woman to her feet as if he did this everyday.

"We need to talk," he said gravely.

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July 13th

To Mrs. Cordova:

While I appreciate your concerns, I do not believe it prudent to continue this project. Recent developments have shown that my daughter will require a greater amount of focus in the coming years. I believe that pursuing such a taxing relationship with your son is simply beyond her abilities.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Pryce