Whispers of the Fallen
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Some secrets aren't meant to be spoken. But what if they whisper first?
She doesn't know her name-not really. Not the true one.
All she knows is Aurie is missing. And the last time they spoke, her best friend warned her not to touch her. Not to see what she sees.
Now strange things are happening-books that shouldn't exist show up on her doorstep, the cicadas scream louder than usual, and something is watching her from just beyond the veil.
Magic isn't just real. It's everywhere. And it's waiting for her to remember who she is.
As she uncovers the truth about Aurie's bloodline, a boy named Andros with eyes like grave dirt, and the voices whispering her name in the dark... one question begins to haunt her more than anything else:
What if she's one of the fallen too?
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She woke to a world washed in silver. The clouds hung low, heavy with secrets. And when the rain began, soft, deliberate. She welcomed it like an old friend. But this morning wasn't like the others. Between the drops, she saw them. Tiny beings, born of shimmer and storm. Fairies. Real ones. They moved like the rain itself knew how to keep them hidden. And in that quiet wonder, something ancient stirred. Everyone else rushed past, umbrellas raised, eyes down. No one noticed. Except her. One fairy remained. Still, glowing, watching her like it had been waiting. When she whispered, "Hello," the world began to shift. But the rain wasn't the only thing falling that day. A parcel was coming. A diary that writes back. A demon who already knows her name. And a truth her father buried long ago. The past isn't sleeping. It's waking up.
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