On the windowsill, where moonbeams painted silver ribbons across the room, sat a snow globe unlike any other. It was larger than most, with a base carved from what looked like frozen starlight, and inside its crystal dome, tiny buildings glowed with the softest amber light. But strangest of all was the sound it made—a gentle, crystalline chiming that seemed to call Noelle's name. Jackson perked his ears at the melodic tinkling, tilting his head as if he could understand its whispered invitation.

Noelle reached toward the globe, and the moment her fingers touched its smooth surface, the world shimmered. The crystalline chiming grew stronger, more welcoming, and suddenly she found herself growing smaller and smaller, until she and Jackson could step right through the glass as if it were made of morning mist.