Present Day
Mira sat cross-legged on the edge of her bed, a heavy book balanced in her lap. Its worn leather cover creaked as she turned another page, the scent of old paper and lavender pressing faintly into the air. Each page had a number of photographs glued to them that Mira's eyes scanned over, like her father laughing as he carried her on his shoulders through the wheat fields, her mother kneeling in the garden with dirt on her cheeks, and the family dog curled by the kitchen stove on a cold night. Her fingers grazed over a photo she and her brother, Noah, in front of the barn, barefoot in the grass, holding up a rope swing they'd just tied to the oak. She smiled faintly, but jumped when firm knock rattled her door.
"Mira!" her mother's voice called out urgently. "You were supposed to be finished packing last night! Your ride is going to be here any minute!"
"I'm almost done!" Mira answered, setting the book aside on the quilt. Her suitcase lay open on the floor beside her bed, half-packed, its brass clasp glinting in the strip of sunlight falling through the window. She reached for a pile of folded clothes that sat at her feet and continued packing where she had left off. Her gaze wandered briefly across her small room—the slanted ceiling, the chipped horse charm in the window, the uneven floorboard that always creaked beneath her heel. She tried to take in every detail as if she could carry the room itself with her, knowing that soon she would be leaving this all behind.
Mira tucked the last of her shirts into the suitcase, pressing them flat before turning toward her desk to grab her writing kit. She packed it all away, but she suddenly realized that something very important was missing.
"What the..." she muttered under her breath, shoving aside a stray book and a chipped mug that held an assortment of pencils. She could not find what she was looking for—not on the desk, shelf, or under her bed—and she was beginning to panic. It didn't make sense. She always knew where she kept it. But that was when she froze and huffed in annoyance as the realization came to her. "Noah!"
As she shouted the name, she heard the sound of footsteps turn and run away from her closed door. Mira leapt to her feet and stormed out of the room. She ran down the hallway, her socks sliding on the worn wooden floor as she caught a glimpse of her kid brother's messy brown hair as he darted down the stairs.
"Hey!" she shouted again, her voice echoing off the walls. "Noah! Give it back!"
Mira only heard him laugh as he disappeared through the mudroom door. Mira skidded after him, flinging the door open just in time to see him jogging across the yard toward the barn, holding a leather-bound book in his arms. Mira hopped down the porch steps two at a time, the cool morning air rushing against her face.
"I mean it, Noah!" she cried, sprinting after him. By the time she caught up to him at the barn doors, she was breathing hard, but her hand shot out and snatched the book from his grip. For a moment, they stood there in the shade of the barn, the smell of hay and dust hanging in the air between them. Noah only grinned mischievously. Mira clutched the book as she opened it up and began frantically flipping through the pages. Her eyes darted over densely packed pages of diagrams and notes, each one written in her precise, slanted handwriting. Complex mechanical sketches overlapped with intricate equations in the margins, calculations for energy efficiency, tensile strength, and aerodynamics. It was everything she had poured hours, days, years into studying as she prepared for her placement exam, a test she had been shocked to learn that she passed with flying colors. And now the day had finally come, but it was hard to believe that she would soon be heading to Stellan Academy, the most prestigious, exclusive preparatory school on the American West Coast.
"Guess I just had to make sure you didn't forget it," Noah said as he leaned back against the barn door. Mira shot him a glare over the top of the notebook, but the sly grin on his face suddenly faded. "I didn't think you'd really be leaving."
Mira's frown softened. She closed the notebook slowly, holding it to her chest. "It's not forever."
"Feels like it," Noah muttered, kicking at a loose pebble in the dirt. He wouldn't look at her. "But I'm not a genius like you. You'll be the one having fun in the city while I'll be stuck here."
"I'm not a genius," Mira replied sheepishly. "I just got lucky."
"Luck had nothing to do with it," a voice spoke out from behind her. Mira spun around to see their mother approaching, her suitcase in hand. "I assume you're finally finished packing."
"Yeah," Mira muttered, taking the suitcase.
"But you're right about one thing, Mira. You're certainly not a genius when it comes to being prepared for moments like this."
Mira could not suppress a snicker as her eyes fell to the ground.
"I'm so proud of you," her mother continued, a wide smile growing upon her face. "You're the first in our family to ever have an opportunity like this."
"I just wish it didn't mean I had to leave," Mira said.
"I know, honey. It will be hard, but we'll be just fine. Besides, your future is more important."
"It's just—" Mira began, sensing a wave of tears welling up inside her. "Ever since Dad—" Her voice quaked as it trailed off and she could not help but sniff and look away. Her mother stepped forward and pulled her into a loving embrace.
"It's alright," she whispered softly. "But if he were with us now then he would be telling you the exact same thing."
"I know, Mom," Mira sobbed, her arms tightening around her. Their embrace endured for a moment longer before the sound of tires on gravel rose up from across the yard. Mira looked up to see a car making its way down the long stretch of driveway toward the house.
"I guess that's your ride, then," her mother said as they released each other.
Mira's heart was beating faster with every second that drew her departure closer. She looked around to Noah, who was trying his best not to show any emotion. Without saying a word, she also pulled him into an embrace. Noah just allowed his arms to hang by his side, as if trying not to give in to his own feelings.
"Don't think I won't miss you too, little brother," Mira said. Noah raised his arms sheepishly around the small of her back for a few seconds before pushing himself out of her embrace.
"You have to FaceTime me when you get there, Mira. I wanna see all of it."
Mira smiled. "We'll see about that, kiddo." She looked over toward the driveway. The car had disappeared from view behind the house as it came to a stop, kicking up a trail of dust. She glanced back at Noah, trying to find some final words to say. Noah just looked at her as if trying to do the same. A moment of awkward silence followed, but Mira was taken aback when he suddenly stepped forward and threw his arms around her.
"I'll miss you too, Mira," he said shakily. Mira wrapped her arms gently around him, resting her head against his. "But I get your room while you're gone." Mira laughed as they lingered in each other's embrace, but at that moment, the sharp sound of the car's horn rang out across the yard.
Mira suddenly jolted from her sleep. The dim light of dawn spilled through the window to her right, and the rhythmic clatter of steel wheels replaced the echo of the car's horn in her mind. She blinked, disoriented for a second as the memory of the previous day lingered in her mind in the form of a dream. Just like that, she was back on the train, the countryside streaming past in streaks of gold and green as the morning sun broke over low, rolling hills.
Mira rubbed the sleep from her eyes, which were laced with tears, and shifted upright in her seat. The faint chill of the train car seeped through her jacket as she looked out at the passing fields. Somewhere far ahead, the landscape began to change. The hills gave way to stretches of road, scattered rooftops, and the glint of metal rails that branched toward something greater. Mira leaned forward, heart quickening. On the horizon, past a faint veil of morning haze, a forest of spires and high towers emerged, catching the sun in a sharp silver hue. She pressed her hand against the cold window, her breath clouding the glass as she tried to take it all in. The city grew larger with every passing second, swallowing the horizon, until it seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction.
Mira slid out of her seat and crossed the narrow aisle, bracing herself against the gentle sway of the train as she moved to the opposite side for a better view. The tracks curved, granting her a sweeping perspective of the city's outer districts—the clustered buildings, the sprawling markets, and, farther in, the shining core where she knew Stellan Academy waited.
Revel City. She was here at last.