SERAPHINA'S POV
The bookmark gleamed faintly when I stepped out of the director’s garden, its silver lines catching the late-afternoon sun.
I held it up, turning it until the light revealed the pattern more clearly.
And then I realized it wasn’t a pattern.
On the back, in tiny, delicate script, was a single line: Independently obtain the Moonlight Alley talisman.
No instructions. No explanation. No hint of what the talisman even looked like.
Alois had handed me a puzzle with no edges and expected me to assemble the picture before sunrise.
I exhaled through my nose. “Great. Fantastic. Nothing like a little vague mysticism to get the blood pumping.”
Alina hummed. ‘Don’t despair. You’ve always loved riddles.’
“Yeah,” I murmured. “Except when they’re about my life.”
‘Hey, your father walked this path. So can you.’
Those words steeled something in me.
She was right; my father must have gone through this same process.
