Elana

Anne knows there's no such thing a magic. Then one day, her eleven-year old daughter receives a thick yellow envelope in the mail... “Mum...?” She stood in the doorway to the kitchen, torn envelope and letter on the same yellow parchment held out to Anne in her outstretched hand. On her face was an expression of such mingled terror and excitement that Anne’s heart froze, then leapt, pounding, into her throat. She rose and took the letter. Every protective mother instinct was aroused. What on earth could make her daughter look like that?