A quick hand covered it, and I turned to see Spencer standing beside me. “They’re sensitive to light.” As soon as he’d said the words, I looked back to see the glowing reflective eyes of a moth staring back at me, while it jabbed a long slender appendage that I guessed to be a proboscis through the mesh holes. It reminded me of the way my mother’s eyes had changed toward the latter stages of her illness, and the way she’d almost hiss when I’d turned the lights on in her room.
