The Three Who Chose Me

Josie

I immediately forced a tremble into my hands, letting my fingers shake as I stared at the now-sprouted soil with wide eyes. "Kiel," I whispered, my voice laced with fear I didn’t feel, "something’s wrong... I’m scared."

It worked. His teasing expression dropped instantly. He was beside me in a flash, his gloved hands reaching out like I was glass about to shatter.

"What is it? Josie, what happened?" he asked, his voice laced with panic as he cupped my elbows.

But I couldn’t answer. Because even I didn’t know how to explain what I had just seen—or done.

The moment my fingers brushed that soil, it didn’t just respond. It exploded with life. Vines twisted, fruits bloomed, colors bled into the gray, dead garden bed like I had painted it with my skin. It had been instinctual, like breathing. And I hated it.

My heart thundered in my chest. I shoved Kiel’s hands off and bolted.

I ran.

The wind stung my eyes and throat as I sprinted across the field, gravel biting into my bare feet. Behind me, I could hear Kiel shouting my name—firm, worried, persistent—but I didn’t look back. My breath was short, but I pushed harder, faster, up the pack house steps, through the door, and into the hallway.

Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to be this person with this awful gift that kept showing up when I least wanted it. My fingers still felt warm from touching the soil.

I made it to my room, and slammed the door.

But it didn’t take long.