Chapter 1

"It's time to wake up Piper!" I hear my mom yell from downstairs.

I open my eyes briefly before closing them again. This room is far too bright. I wish I had the power to adjust the sun's brightness as effortlessly as I adjust my iPhone's screen. Sleep beckons me, and I effortlessly surrender to its embrace.

"Piper?" My mom calls up the stairs again. I pull my pillow over my head, trying to muffle the sounds. A short while later, she opens my door and sits on my bed.

"Sweetie, you have to get up. You've been in bed all day. It's already noon," she announces.

What's been up with her recently? Is she feeling down?

I hear my mom wonder.

Oh great, am I feeling down now? Why do moms tend to think like this, always jumping to the worst possible conclusions over minor things, or is it just mine? Where did she even get that idea?

With that thought, I sit up. "You're right, I should probably get up," I say with a smile, hoping it reassures her and, even better, gets her to stop nagging me.

Her lips form a smile. "Glad to hear it, sweetie. I'll go make you... breakfast," she says, hesitating on the word "breakfast," and gives me a kiss on the forehead. I think "brunch" is the word she meant.

She starts to leave but turns back at the door to say, "I love you, honey."

"I love you too, Mom."

And just so you know, when I mentioned "I heard her think," I wasn't mistaken. I've been able to read minds for as long as I can remember. Yep, you heard me right. You're not imagining things, and neither am I—at least, I hope not—so please don't ask! Initially, I assumed everyone had this ability, but I quickly realized that wasn't the case. Wow, I just accidentally rhymed! Apparently, I'm some sort of anomaly with supernatural powers. Perfect, right? Just what every teenage girl dreams of—a special trait she can't control that sets her apart as a freak. It's just delightful.

Go ahead and let it all out now. You can scream, jump around, call me a liar or a freak—whatever you feel like doing, just do it. I understand it’s a lot to take in. I can’t stand hiding anymore, so I’m dumping it all out in one go. Since the moment I was born, I've been able to read minds. Yes, you heard me right. I've never shared this with anyone, not even with my own family. Not with my mom, or with my dad, before he passed away.

I'm an only child, so no, I haven't told any siblings, and not even my best friend Lyra. She'd probably never forgive me if she ever found out I kept it from her this whole time... As far as I know and as far as I can tell, I'm normal in every other aspect, except that I have this one secret. This one crazy thing that is both a blessing and a curse. I can hear people's thoughts. It sounds insane every single time I try to say it out loud, and it’s even crazier to admit it to anyone. Now you understand how terrifying it is to come clean about something like this. Like telling you one plus one is a thousand. But here it is, and I'm done hiding.

Sometimes I wonder why my parents never figured it out. Maybe I babbled endless secrets as a baby and they just thought it was gibberish. I remember being a kid and hearing things I wasn’t supposed to hear.

The truth is, I can’t control other people or move objects just by thinking about it. I’m not a mutant or some weird medical miracle. No top-secret government labs, no freak accidents. And I’m definitely not lying, so don’t even think I am—and trust me, I’ll know if you do. Anyway, that’s the gist of it.

After splashing cold water on my face and brushing my teeth, I head downstairs. Mom is in the kitchen, humming to herself as she cooks eggs and bacon for breakfast. She looks up and smiles when she sees me. The rich aroma hangs in the air, making my stomach growl so loudly it might have been picked up by a seismograph.

"That smells amazing, mom. Thanks," I say, leaning in to give her a quick peck on the cheek before taking my usual seat at the table.

"It's no trouble, sweetheart," she replies, flipping the eggs one last time before placing them alongside the bacon on a warm plate. She hands the plate to me with a flourish and a proud grin. I dig in as if I haven’t eaten in days.

"Everything okay? You seem a little distracted," she says, her voice gentle.

I swallow quickly and offer her a reassuring smile. "Yeah, just thinking. You know how it is."

"Too much thinking and not enough eating," she jokes, ruffling my hair.

The clinking of her coffee cup echoes as she takes a sip. I shove a forkful of eggs into my mouth, the taste mingling perfectly with the bacon.

"Are you sure I'm not keeping you from anything?" I ask, knowing how busy her mornings can be. She shakes her head, her expression one of practiced patience.

"You're not keeping me from anything. Do you want toast?" she says.

"No, thank you." I respond.

Outside, I hear some guys chatting, doors banging, and a loud beeping noise. "What's all the commotion?" I ask my mom as I dig into her famously fluffy eggs.

Mom’s face brightens up with a big smile. "Oh, yes! It seems the house next door, where Belle and Zeus used to live, is getting a new owner. A young guy, around your age, and quite handsome! Looks like he's moving in alone. After breakfast, you should go over and introduce yourself, welcome him to the neighborhood," she suggests enthusiastically, clearly doing that thing moms do when they try to set their daughters up with boys they find appealing. Though, how she can already have a good impression of someone she hasn't met is beyond me.

A cute young guy who already somewhat has my mom’s seal of approval? I’m not really seeking anyone to date, but meeting my attractive new neighbor could be interesting—after all, a little eye candy never hurt anyone.

"Yeah, I might consider it."

"Oh, that's great!" Mom exclaims.

Perhaps Piper will start dating him... That would be wonderful! She's never really dated anyone before, and I wonder why. She's beautiful, kind, smart, and she definitely takes after her mom in terms of looks... boys should be flocking to her.

Oh boy.

"It would be nice to have a guy as a friend," I admit, stressing the word 'friend.'