Chapter 14: What the Dreams MeanMonday morning broke with a thick pink fog curled low over the streets of Black Salt, like something had clawed its way outta the earth and didn’t much care about bein' seen. It wrapped around the cracked sidewalks, clung to front porches, and smothered the school yard like breath from somethin' sleepin' too close. You could taste it—like copper and river mud.Wren stood outside the school doors, arms folded tight over her chest, chin buried in her scarf. "That fog ain’t right," she muttered.Nova stepped up beside her, rubbing her hands together. "Neither are the dreams."The others trickled in, faces drawn, silent. Milo barely glanced up from his boots, and Luce looked like she hadn’t slept at all—dark half-moons under her eyes, twitchy fingers tugging at her sleeves. Atlas hung back, as always, but his stare was fixed on the treeline, like he expected it to blink.Inside, the school was louder than usual, but not in the normal way. It buzzed. Whispe
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