Rivergroown, Minnesota, wasn’t the kind of place you’d expect secrets to survive. With only 900 residents, news spread faster than the morning fog over Twin Pines Park. But for 14-year-old Kaida Dragon Shaper, secrets weren’t just a way of life—they were survival.

She stepped out of her house that morning, backpack slung over one shoulder, a piece of toasted lava bread in her mouth. Her mom, Liana Rayne, a soft-spoken botanist with watchful eyes, waved from the porch. The mist curled around Kaida’s shoes like playful snakes, and though the sun was just beginning to rise, the wind whispered her name like it knew her. ‘Kaida…’

No one else heard it. Just her.

She paused halfway down the sidewalk, her boots scraping against the dewy stone path. Behind her, the old maple trees swayed—without wind. She blinked. Her reflection in the dewy windowpane shimmered for a split second… then shifted. Not a girl with tangled black curls and a forest-green hoodie, but a shadowy figure crowned in flame and scales.

She shook it off. Just nerves. Just the weird dreams again.

“Kaida!” shouted Jax Rivera from across the street. He jogged up, football under one arm, wearing that half-grin he always had when he was late. “Ready for another thrilling day of educational prison?”

“Only if you’re supplying the donuts,” she replied, smirking.

They walked together toward Rivergroown Junior High, joined by Mei Lin Zhao and Trey Holloway at the next block. The school loomed ahead—modest, brick-built, and humming with sleepy teen energy. But Kaida felt something else humming—beneath the pavement, under the trees, deep in her bones. A slow, thrumming warmth. A rhythm that didn't belong in a schoolyard.

‘Kaida…’ the voice came again, not spoken aloud, but inside her—whispers wrapped in smoke.

As they approached the entrance, Alina Vega ran up holding her sketchbook, eyes wide. “Did you feel that? The ground—it was warm this morning. Like, weird warm.”

Noah Sterling snorted behind her. “You mean like global warming? Wow. Mystery solved.”

But Kaida’s stomach twisted. Because Alina wasn’t wrong. And that voice? It wasn’t just in her head. It came from *somewhere*.

Somewhere waiting to be found.