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“My first kiss was with a mirror and I told everyone it was a water sprite.”

Lunachokeson her tea.

Caspian groans and drapes a pillow over his face. “Please, gods, make it stop.”

“Don’tencourageit,” I say to no one and everyone. “If you acknowledge it, it gains power.”

But italreadyhas power.

Because next comes: “I once tried to prank Ambrose and ended up locked in a broom closet for six hours with a haunted mop. I apologized to the mop.”

“Wait,” Elias says, slow and deliberate. “Are youstillhaunted by that mop?”

“It sends me letters.”

He pauses. “…What?”

“Don’t ask follow-up questions.”

Another whisper spills out, louder this time, like my voice is gaining confidence: “I secretly think I could seduce the moon if it gave me a chance.”

Elias falls off the couch laughing.

“I have theenergy,” I snap defensively. “I couldtotallyseduce the moon. It just hasn’t beenreadyfor me.”

Riven sighs like he’s questioning every choice that led him here.

I sink into the cushions, face hot. “This house is cursed,” I declare. “The school is cursed.I’mcursed.”

Luna bites her lip. “You sure you’re not just… leaking?”

“Oh I’m leaking, all right,” I grumble. “Leaking secrets, dignity, whatever thread of sanity I had left.”

“Let me know when you start leaking useful information,” Ambrose says, deadpan.

“Let me know whenyoustart leaking personality,” I shoot back.

Another whisper slithers out: “I sometimes wonder if I’m actually the villain in everyone’s story but then I remember I’m hot, so it’s probably fine.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“…Okay that one’s valid,” Elias says.

I bury my face in my hands and groan. “If this doesn’t stop soon, I’m going to dig a grave and swan dive into it with a kazoo solo.”

I try to breathe. Deeply. Calmly. Like maybe if I pretend I’m a composed, responsible adult with no secrets worth hiding, the whispering will stop.

It doesn’t.

“I don’t know how babies are made,” my voice says, but without my consent, and with way too much confidence.

Luna chokes. On laughter. Caspian slides down the couch like his spine just gave up, wheezing into a pillow. Elias nearly launches his tea across the room, clutching his stomach like the betrayal physically wounded him.

“Okay—” I point wildly at everyone. “That one was taken out of context!”

“Was it?” Luna manages between giggles, her entire face red with effort. “Was itreally?”

“I didn’t say I don’t know, I said I don’t knowspecifically, like... thelogistics,” I defend, because somehow that’s supposed to help. “There aresteps, Luna. It’s not intuitive!”