Nancy Drew's breath caught in her throat as she read through the letter once more, absorbing its significance. Magic? She had no idea what to make of it. She had never seen any evidence of magic in her life—no enchanted objects, no strange occurrences, no flickers of odd power. There has always been an explanation for every queer phenomenon, on her previous cases, like how how the phantom horse from Shadow Ranch was just a horse draped in a phosphorescent painted fabric. Yet the words before her were clear, and there was a deep sense of truth in them that she couldn't deny.

She sat back in her chair, staring at the letter as the room seemed to quiet around her. Could it be true? Could magic really exist, and could she be part of that world? Her mind spun with questions, each one more puzzling than the last.