Where’s Geoffrey?

I haven’t seen Geoffrey all day, and I’m starting to worry.

At first, I thought he was just off doing whatever it is Geoffrey does when he’s not pestering Blizzard or stealing shiny things. He’s a bird, after all. Birds explore, right? But as the hours ticked by, a gnawing sense of unease started creeping in.

By midday, I decided to look for him. The tower isn’t that big (well, unless it decides to be difficult), so how hard could it be to find one black bird?

Apparently, very hard.

I started in the kitchen, where he’s usually up to no good. No sign of him there, though Blizzard gave me a pointed look from her spot by the hearth, as if to say, “Good riddance.” I checked the pantry next, then the library, the dining hall, and even the little nook under the stairs where he sometimes hides. Nothing.

By the time I’d made my way to the upper floors, I was genuinely concerned. Geoffrey might be annoying, but he’s my annoying bird, and the idea of him being hurt—or worse—was making my stomach churn.

I even opened a few closets, half expecting to find… well, I don’t know what. The tower has a history of surprises, and who’s to say it hasn’t stashed Geoffrey somewhere for reasons of its own? (I’m still not convinced it didn’t trap that intruder last week on purpose.)

Blizzard, of course, couldn’t care less. She followed me for a little while, more out of curiosity than concern, but eventually wandered off with a swish of her tail. Her expression practically screamed, “Why are we looking for him? Let’s enjoy the peace and quiet.”

I tried explaining that Geoffrey might be in trouble, but she just yawned and curled up in her bed.

By evening, I was desperate enough to try calling for him. “Geoffrey!” I shouted, my voice echoing through the halls. “Geoffrey, where are you?”

No response. Not even a squawk. I stood there, listening to the silence, my heart sinking.

Then I remembered: Geoffrey loves shiny things. Maybe if I offered him something sparkly, he’d come out of hiding. I ran to my room and grabbed the little silver pendant Father gave me last year—a tiny star etched with intricate patterns. I held it up and waved it around like bait.

“Geoffrey! Look! Something shiny!”

Still nothing.

As I sat on the stairs, clutching the pendant, my mind went to dark places. What if Geoffrey got stuck in one of the tower’s shifting walls? What if he flew out the window and couldn’t find his way back? What if… oh no… what if he ran into a bigger, meaner bird?

The idea of Geoffrey being gone for good hit me harder than I expected. Sure, he’s a troublemaker, and Blizzard hates him, but he’s also part of our weird little family now. The thought of not hearing his croaky “Pretty!” or seeing him hop around with something he shouldn’t have was… well, sad.

Just as I was about to give up, I heard a faint noise—a soft rustling, like feathers brushing against stone. My heart leapt.

“Geoffrey?” I called, my voice barely above a whisper.

The rustling grew louder, and then, from the shadows of the hallway, a familiar black shape emerged.

“Geoffrey!” I cried, rushing toward him.

He hopped toward me, looking none the worse for wear, though he was clutching something in his beak—a shiny golden button I definitely hadn’t seen before.

I scooped him up, holding him close despite his indignant squawking. “Don’t scare me like that again!” I scolded, though I couldn’t help but smile.

Geoffrey just tilted his head, his beady eyes sparkling mischievously, as if to say, “What’s the big deal?”

Blizzard wandered in at that moment, took one look at us, and promptly left the room. Clearly, she wasn’t ready for the Geoffrey reunion.

Geoffrey is back, and all is well—for now. But I’ve learned something important today: as much as he drives me crazy, I really do care about that silly bird.

I just wish he cared enough about me to leave a note next time he disappears.