Elara’s pen flew across the paper. She drew a crooked alley, a splash of blue for the fountain, and a dotted line labeled The Path of Willful Disorientation . Then she added a small, fierce sun in the corner. "That's your North Star," she said. "Not the destination. The willingness to be lost together ."
"This is ridiculous," Mira whispered, but she was almost smiling.
"You kept the wrong turns," she said, her voice breaking.
Elara’s pen flew across the paper. She drew a crooked alley, a splash of blue for the fountain, and a dotted line labeled The Path of Willful Disorientation . Then she added a small, fierce sun in the corner. "That's your North Star," she said. "Not the destination. The willingness to be lost together ."
"This is ridiculous," Mira whispered, but she was almost smiling.
"You kept the wrong turns," she said, her voice breaking.
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