P

o notice the lonely, I was left behind. Abandoned-not on the streets, but on the doorstep of a stranger's home. A na

t with dual-colored eyes and a mark that no cloth could conceal. It wasn't cruelty that drove her-at least,

e of gold-shimmered unnaturally, glowing faintly under certain lights. And the mark across my body... not a birthmark, no. It was a tatto

child. No or

would accept me. And truth be

en wonder-what kind of mother l

might find me-was perhaps the only kindness she could muster. But fa

took me in. Or rather,

thes, polite smiles. But none of it was real. Their hospitality was paper-thin, folding under pressure. There were

g silverware with hands that should have been playing, not bleeding. I learned not to speak unless spoken to. I learned tha

I watched from the attic window, wis

stop wishing. I grew quiet. Still.

something else-so

dn't. I could climb walls, leap from rooftops without injury, survive on scraps of food and barely a

was a curse, one I couldn't spea

everything c

omething I couldn't name. But the hunger was the worst part. It gnawed at me, constant and

fences. I'd take chickens from nearby farms, or steal scraps from butch

a

ul. It bit me once when I was six, left a scar on my

ing sn

ck, brutal. I at

Mrs. Richardson screamed when she found the empty pet bed, then collapsed in sobs. I

would be the

had oth

a neighbor. He wore a tailored coat of black and silver, walked with the grac

Richardson a sealed envelope. Money ch

t a word, not because I wasn't afraid-but

Richardsons, he treated me with respec

we sat in the backseat of a car that purred like

to a world I di

es like fire. Monsters who wore human faces. And others l

ned to control my instincts. I lear

a son-M

Michael saw me as competition. I saw him as a th

ther. Bled together

ove was a weakness. A door left open

the woman who left me. But I no

ngth. Powe

oesn't prepare y

-

a's

on my face and the scent of cinnam

ould be spending the wh

ome, whispered exchanges, locked rooms, hushed phone calls. Still, I held o

e future. I imagined us laughing over breakfast. I i

ike glass the moment I r

cked open. Voice

's not safe to keep he

tually," my mother replied soft

way. Co

e warmth in my che

he door op

uilt written across thei

away?" My voice trembl

for me. "Kiva, it'

ike exile!"

al. A place where I could be understood, trained, p

texted Shane. My best friend. The o

out. He felt uneasy

r, maybe I'd star

shed, bodies moved, and for a moment, I felt lik

stranger with dark eyes

a dance.

I didn't know. They circ

ed. Their eyes were hungry. I tried

racked. No one heard. Th

he pai

in my shoulder, like f

I caught a glimpse of myself in

-wild, glowing. One em

ower surged. Unco

light. A bl

kne

ight trickled through my c

ide me, humming,

th memory. "Shan

whispered. "He's

id down

ents entere

ns or scolding words-but

he sat on the edge of my bed and gentl

, her voice cracking. "My b

her, unabl

all. "We never wanted to hurt you. We only wanted to protect you. From the

ide her, taking my

knew it from the moment we held you. We just... w

had never seen my

ht. We thought we were shielding you, but instead... we isolated

illing from my eyes. "I d

"You were frightened, overwhelmed.

my forehead, lingering ther

id softly. "You're extraordinary.

ked, s

changed, and it never will. But there are things abou

tle squeeze. "It's time you knew w

just a school. It's a place where others like you learn what

by the warmth in their voices.

s. "You were never meant to be no

humming weaving through my dreams like magic

I was hugged by my parents, my mum had tears streaming down her as she hel

side me. My suitcase in the

a future unknown

the window and the sky op

ain. Not

antic

ld come-and the power