Constance started to keen as the air around us began to thrash and twist, the caustic scent of ozone burning my nose. As I watched, her dark gold hair began to lift and kink into knots. "I'm here. It'll be okay." It was the last thing I said before my best friend's little sister went supernova in the second-floor girls' bathroom, taking me with her. A month ago, Mo Fitzgerald risked her life to stop an ancient prophecy...