Then Ariel picked up her deck of playing cards. She didn't build a tower. Instead, she handed one card to Luna—the Queen of Cups, who holds her secrets gently. And one card to Maya—the Knight of Wands, who charges into the unknown. She kept the Star for herself.

The next morning, the fog was gone. But on Luna's windowsill, next to the jar of midnight, there was a single silver feather. Maya found her fern, Kevin, had grown three new leaves overnight. And Ariel noticed that the stars had rearranged themselves into a shape none of them had ever seen before—three points, connected by a crooked line.

Luna stood by her jar of midnight, but the shadows felt hollow. Maya drew a furious sun on the floor, but the chalk made no sound. Ariel tried to point to Orion's belt, but the stars had tucked themselves away.

Like a tower. Like a storm. Like a whisper.