Page 97 of Our Little Moments

“I did it!” I say back, with such a big smile on my face that my cheeks hurt.

I can hear the grin in his voice as he tells me, “I amsoproud of you, Stella.”

Before I can reply, my mom steps forward, tears shimmering in her eyes. “And so am I,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. She doesn’t wait for words, she simply pulls me into her arms, and for a moment, I let myself sink into the comfort of her embrace.

My mom has always been my anchor, my safe place to turn to when I needed to feel loved and tonight’s no different.

“You’ve always been meant for this,” she tells me, her voice full of emotions as she cups my face before stepping aside for my dad.

His grin is proud, almost smug. “I knew you’d do it. You’ve always been able to do anything you set your mind to.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I say with a giggle, but it doesn’t stop the tears from slipping down my cheeks when he hugs me. His confidence in me has always been what pushed me forward when I grew up and, tonight of all nights, I appreciate all his encouraging words more than anything else.

My parents discuss my concert, but their words fade away.

Adrian. Where is he?

I glance around, expecting to see him leaning against a pillar or standing near the entrance with that steady presence of his, but he’s nowhere to be found.

It’s fine. Maybe he’s a little late.

He hasn’t been in the city, maybe he’s just struggling to find the way to get backstage again.

Maybe he’s lost or caught in the crowd.

Derek must notice my unease because his hand lands gently on my shoulder. “We can go look for him outside, if you want.”

I nod, forcing a small smile. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

I hug my parents goodbye, promising to catch up with them later, and follow my friend out of the temple. Tension coils in my chest, sharp and insistent.

Something’s wrong.

As we walk in silence into the crispy streets, my eyes catch on the news broadcast playing on a nearby TV screen from a building. The screen shows footage of downed power lines and streets flooded with rain.

I halt to a stop. “What happened?”

Derek looks at me and stops too. “You remember the storm I told you about when you got here? Where one of the competitors at the tournament this morning lost control of their powers?”

His words barely register as his words from just a few hours ago come back to me. My mind is already racing ahead. “But they got control of it again, right?” I start hyperventilating.No, no, no, no. “Or . . . or did it spread elsewhere?”

I wait for his answer, desperate to hear that they got back control of the storm. That it didn’t spread to the small towns nearby.

And especially not—

Derek doesn’t need to reply because the journalist on screen answers my question.

“. . . the storm has since moved to smaller towns . . .”

Westwood Spring.

I don’t hear the rest.

NO!

My heart beats so fast I think it might explode.

“No, no, no . . .” The words tumble from my lips as tears blur my vision. “Derek! I need a portal to Westwood Spring. Now!”

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