Her eyes were caught on the piece of parchment before her, and the white feather atop it. It had been weeks since she had written her name on the page. Now, there was a new line below it. Hello Isla, it read. The words themselves weren’t what made her stomach drop—it was the handwriting, which she knew almost as well as her own. Aurora’s.
Literally the same as voldemorts notebook/ horcrux in harry potter
