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When I wake up, Dad's voice lingers like a persistent echo, drilling itself deep into my mind. I race to the bathroom and hurriedly turn on the sink faucet, letting the cold water run over my trembling hands. I splash some of it on my face and look up at my reflection in the mirror.

I look about as good as I feel. Deep bags stretch out from underneath my eyes from lack of sleep, and the angry red scabs from the sand orb still linger. My hair is tangled and my face is a bit flushed. The water I splashed myself with drips down my eyelashes, my nose, and my chin, hitting the sink with quiet plops. I force myself to look away and go back to my room to get ready.

Today is the day.

The first thing I do is take my phone—an older model that I rarely use—and call Dad's number. The line rings for a few seconds, but ultimately ends with an automated voice telling me that You have reached the voicemail box of...

I swallow back any doubts I have and wait for the beep after the automated message.

"Um. Hi," I say, sounding stupid. "It's me. I just want to tell you that things aren't going that well here. There are some other dreamcatchers here." I let out a small laugh. "Yeah. Vera, Hyacinth, and a few others. Do you know any of them? Sorry, nevermind. This is just a message." I pause. "I went to the psychics yesterday. Layla thought up of a plan. It's... well, it's risky. They kept on telling me that I'd be fine, but I don't really know.

"I guess what I want to say is that if things go wrong, I'm sorry for everything. And I forgive you. Even though you're hundreds of miles away. Even though you took all of Mom's dreams. Even though you never told me about the mints."

I move the phone away from my ear and stare at it in my hands. Unable to think of anything else to say, I press the end call button. Despite the fact that I said everything that was on my mind, I still feel like there are so many things left unsaid. Things that I may never know, if my luck fails me.

I shake my head, trying to focus on the positive things. Line after line of information runs through my head as I try to remember the things the psychics told me. It's crucial that I don't forget a single detail. I raise my head and glance at the clock hanging above my bed. It's almost 7:30 am. The chances of Vera and Hyacinth walking into the shop within an hour is 70%.

I quickly change into another pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. I put on a beanie, and because it's quite literally freezing, I wrap an old scarf around my neck. The bag the psychics gave me yesterday lies on the floor by my bed. I rummage around inside it until my fingers close around a small, spherical metalish object. Frowning, I take it out and inspect it. The sphere is plain, smooth, and silver, cold against my palm.

Remembering the psychics' instructions, I press my index finger against the sphere. It immediately bursts into two at my touch, and I flinch backward even though I expected it. It had almost slipped my mind that the sphere is full of tech—despite looking so simple on the outside. I grip onto the spheres—one in each hand—then gingerly insert one into each ear.

The spheres dissolve into liquid once I let go of them. I squirm—the sensation is bizarre, like after you shower and you can't seem to get the water out of your ear. It feels like there's liquid ice being poured into my head.

The feeling stops, almost as quickly as it came. I tap against the side of my head to get any excess liquid out, but there's none. It's almost as if the liquid itself has completely ceased to exist.

"Hello?" I whisper. "Is it working?"

I don't hear a response. Then, suddenly, Liam's voice rings out in my mind, loud and clear.

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