Arin studied me. My smirk faded. I had worn a thousand faces in my twenty years. Fooled friends and enemies with my false names and empty smiles. But sometimes, like now, Arin gazed at me a certain way, and I thought he saw it. My true face, hidden beneath the debris. I wondered what it looked like. I wondered why in a world ripe with monsters and magic, only he could see me so clearly. “Good night, Suraira.”
