The Arrival
chapteR eleven
The portal didn’t buzz or crackle like the ones in the movies.
There was no explosion.
No slow-motion wind.
Just a hum.
​
​
Like a lullaby you only remember
once someone starts singing it.
Nic stood still.
Wand in hand.
Clifford by her side.
​
And then—
He stepped through.
The boy.
The one from the dreams.
The song.
The stars.
But this time?
Real.
Skin and eyes and shadow.
Breathing her air.
Wearing the freckles the fireflies had once drawn in light.
He didn’t speak right away.
He didn’t need to.
Because Nic could feel it.
​
The shift.
The snap.
The click of a story locking into place.
He walked up to her slowly,
like he’d done it a thousand times before
in a thousand different dreams.
And maybe he had.
She didn’t say hi.
She didn’t ask questions.
She just said:
“You found it.”
He grinned.
“You made it easy.”
Then he reached into his pocket.
And pulled out—
A journal.
Worn.
Weathered.
Full of blank gold pages.
The same one he always carried in the dreams.
He handed it to her.
And when she opened it?
There was one sentence written in the center
of the very first page:
“Let’s write it all down this time.”
Nic smiled.
​
Wand humming in her hand.
Heart fully online.
Air glittering with a brand-new beginning.
​
Clifford barked thrice.
Which meant:
“We’re not alone anymore.”
And he was right.
Because the sparkle trail?
It wasn’t just behind her now.
It was behind him, too.
​