Ilvermorny: Where Memory Sleeps

Her father's silence was heavier than any answer he could have given.

She watched him closely, her fingers—wrapped around the edge of the table. The letter sat between them like a dividing line—past on one side, future on the other.

Finally, he spoke. "That school—Ilvermorny—it's not just some ordinary boarding school. It's where your mother went."

Her heart skipped. "So she was a witch."

He nodded slowly. "One of the best. But that world... it's dangerous. It's not all spells and sparkles. It's full of secrets, power struggles, and people who'd use magic for the wrong reasons."

"You still should've told me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I wanted to wait until you were older. I was hoping you'd never get a letter at all." His gaze drifted to the window, where morning sunlight had just begun to melt the night. "But I should've known better. It's in your blood."

She looked down at the letter again, rereading the opening lines as if they might suddenly make more sense.

"Why didn't Mom ever come back?" she asked. "Why did she leave?"

His jaw tightened. "She didn't leave."

That made her look up fast. "Then where is she?"

He hesitated—too long.

"She disappeared," he said finally. "On a mission. Something to do with a dark artifact. The school never told me much. Just that she was gone. Vanished, like smoke."

She swallowed hard. "Is that why I keep seeing her? In my dreams?"

His eyes widened slightly. "You've seen her?"

"In the woods. She calls out to me. She says you're lying. That you're keeping me from the truth."

His face paled. He rubbed his temples, as if trying to push back memories he hadn't wanted to face.

"She must be trying to reach you through the Veil," he muttered. "I didn't think it was possible."

"What's the Veil?"

"A boundary," he said. "Between the living and... what's beyond. Some witches—very powerful ones—can leave echoes. If your mother is reaching out to you, then maybe she's still alive. Or something of her is."

Her heart pounded. The world she thought she knew—her boring, careful life—was crumbling, and in its place was something far stranger, and far more dangerous.

"I want to go," she said.

He looked at her, pain flickering in his eyes. "I know."

"Will you let me?"

He didn't answer right away. But after a long breath, he nodded.

"I won't stop you. But if you're going into that world... you need to know the truth. All of it."

She met his gaze. "Then tell me."