The next morning, Ava woke to sunlight streaking through her window and the sound of birdsong. Her heart beat fast as she dressed quickly and ran out into the backyard garden.
She didn't know exactly where to look. It was just a wish, right? Still, she pushed aside ferns and kicked through mulch, trying not to feel too ridiculous.
Then she saw it.
Wedged between two stones near the garden gnome was a slightly crumpled twenty-dollar bill.
Ava stared at it. Slowly, she reached down and picked it up. It was real. Crisp, a little damp, but unmistakably real.
Her heart thundered. It wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be.
She ran back inside, the bill clenched in her fist. She pulled the book from under the bed and opened it again. Blank pages. So many blank pages.
A thousand possibilities ran through her head.
That day, she tested the book again.
I wish Maddie James would get laryngitis and not be able to talk for a week.
I wish my mom would send me a text saying I can stay another month.
She hesitated. Then added one more:
I wish I had a cat. A black one, with green eyes.
That evening, the email came. School was still out, but a follow-up message confirmed Maddie was sick—lost her voice completely. No talking for a week, per doctor's orders.
An hour later, her mom texted. Looks like things will take longer here than expected. Grandma says it's okay if you stay until the end of next month.
And when Ava went out to bring in the garbage, a skinny black cat was curled on the front porch, staring up at her with luminous green eyes.
It padded over and rubbed against her legs.
Ava gasped.
It was real. All of it.
She had a magic book.
And everything she wrote in it… came true.