Chapter 38

• Atlas
• The scent of roses has always made my nose itch. Even as a kid, whenever Mom forced me to help prune her rose garden in the mansion, I’d end up sneezing and cursing under my breath. It was no different today.
• I pulled my grey hoodie tighter against the crisp morning air, standing at the edge of Blackwood Academy’s rose garden. Dewdrops clung to the thorned stems, glittering like spider silk in the dawn light. The sky above was pale pink, streaked with orange as the sun bled into morning.