The first time it happened, Aisha thought she was dreaming.
A voice — soft, melodic — calling her name in the dark. She sat up in bed, moonlight spilling across the room. Kael slept beside her, his breathing steady, his hand resting loosely in hers. Outside, the silver tree shimmered in the night breeze. Its leaves whispered like wind chimes, glowing faintly with veins of light.
Then she heard it again.
Mother…
Her heart skipped. She turned toward the window. The voice hadn't come from outside. It had come from within the tree.
Aisha slipped out of bed and padded barefoot to the garden. The cool grass brushed against her ankles as she approached the trunk. Up close, the bark seemed almost transparent — beneath it, streams of light pulsed like veins, and somewhere deep inside, a shape flickered. Not roots. Not branches. A heartbeat.
"Kael," she whispered, almost afraid of her own voice. "Wake up."
