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.

echoed, her mind a whirlpool

Which porcelain?

of suspended time—for Millie to regain herself, shaking

it. You’ve misunderstood.” Her voice was

of the porcelain, Millie knew full well the fury

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

in her head,

Mae’s hurried summons played back, and a realization washed

great grandfather’s legacy. It’s a

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