Page 124 of Magical Mission
“Call Celeste.”
The phone pulsed once, and my daughter’s face bloomed into view, grainy and slightly too bright from fluorescent dorm lighting.
“Mom?” Her hair was in a messy bun with a pencil tucked behind her ear. “Are you alive? Did you fall off the planet? Are you in a cult?”
“I’m alive,” I said, trying to keep the emotion from rising too fast. “I miss you.”
Her expression softened immediately. “I miss you, too. I’m sorry I haven’t called. I’ve been studying and spending time with my boyfriend.”
“The nerve.” I chuckled. “I’ve been feeling guilty for not calling you, too.”
“I’m so ready for classes to be over.”
“I bet.” I spotted her boyfriend in the background and hid a smile as we talked for a few minutes, about her classes, her dorm mate’s mystery casserole, a paper she was dreading, and I let the sound of her voice smooth something rough inside me.
“I was calling to ask if you had plans for spring break,” I said carefully.
“Well… I was thinking of coming home,” she said. “I mean, if that’s okay. I kind of miss our weird movie nights and your over-steeped tea. I’d love to see your new place.”
A soft ache bloomed in my chest. “You can always come home.”
But as the words left my mouth, so did the worry.
Could she?
With the shimmer pressing through the walls, with Gideon’s presence still haunting the town and Academy, with the strange quiet that sometimes fell over the halls like the Academy was listening…was it safe?
She didn’t know what this place really was. WhatIwas. Not yet.
And I couldn’t protect her from what I hadn’t figured out how to fight.
But she was my daughter.
She needed a mother who didn’t just love her from afar.
So I smiled.
“I’d love to have you home,” I said. “But let me make sure the cottage is in shape first. It’s been… a little unpredictable.”
She laughed. “So, like usual.”
I forced a laugh, too. “Exactly.”
When we ended the call, I stared at the darkened phone for a long moment.
Celeste's coming home meant joy and a sense of connection. It could be a moment where a piece of my old life folded gently into the new.
But it also meant risk.
If Gideon was still reaching…
If the shimmer wasn’t done opening...
I’d have to come up with a plan.
A way to shield her. A way to keep the cottage separate. To create protections she’d never notice but would never step outside of.
I couldn’t deny her a homecoming.
