Millie’s response was almost instinctive.

“Didn’t you summon me?”

“When did I…?”

Marcus’ voice trailed off, urgency replacing confusion. He lunged, his hands seizing the porcelain fragments from Millie’s grasp.

“Millie, you’ve shattered the precious porcelain!”

His voice had a winter chill.

Millie’s heart stopped.

her mind a whirlpool

Which porcelain?

seconds of suspended time—for Millie to regain herself, shaking her head with

Her voice was a

porcelain, Millie knew full well the fury simmering in Marcus’ eyes. She raced

perpetrator, then who is? Why would these shards lie treacherously at my

her head, threatening to

memory of Mae’s hurried summons played back, and a

an artifact from antiquity, holds more than just age within its delicate form. It bears the fingerprints of my great grandfather’s legacy. It’s a treasure not for its years, but for the stories it carries. How could you shatter something so

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