Prologue

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I want to begin this book by saying that Stella Sutharastan is dead. Murdered for who she was. She was a magical girl who had the power to make whatever she drew a reality. The AMI, a certain company, had killed her. It was called Anti-Magic Incorporated, a place where people who were magic would be captured, and then tortured or killed.

Magic isn't a choice. It'd be fun if it is, but no. It wasn't genetic. It wasn't a choice. Do you have it or not? The latter is preferred. Whether you could control the weather, see through walls or have super strength, it didn't matter. The AMI is there. And they will find you.

If you turn down Hawthorne Lane, wind through the third side alley on the right, and walk behind the bus stop, you'll find it. The AMI HQ, corporate building. Tall, white, illuminated with fake cheap yellow lamps. Though through this façade of poverty, a well-off company sits, richer than your wildest dreams. You could almost swim in the dollars, pounds, euros, and yen they rake in by the day.

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