“Fletching Celeste!” Ah . . . that shrill, nasal voice. Mira’s complexion made her face smudge into her scarlet wings. “A Triple! What in the worlds possessed you to sign on to a Triple?” Her eyes, bright with . . . tears? No, those couldn’t be tears. This woman never cried. “What did she do to you?” She peeled my wrist away from Asher’s torso. “It”—I wrinkled my nose as she prodded my swollen purplish flesh—“feels better than it looks.” She glowered, and then the strangest thing happened. A tear rolled down her cheek. “Ophan, it’s okay.”
