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

Which porcelain?

of suspended time—for Millie

didn’t break it. You’ve misunderstood.” Her voice was a plea, a truth yet to be

the true value of the porcelain, Millie knew full well

these shards lie treacherously at my feet? And who beckoned me

clamored in her head,

and a realization washed over Millie: she’d been

than just age within its delicate form. It bears the fingerprints of my great grandfather’s legacy. It’s a

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