“Samantha Lowe of the Wards.” My best friend stood against the wall, still at her guard post. The glare of the lights didn't block me from seeing her, nor did it block the look on her face. The color had drained from her skin, and her lips were parted as though I had stolen her breath. Which, to be fair, I probably had. Had I really just done that? Yes, but I had no one else I could trust.
