the cut. "Renna,” she says, her voice turning uneasy, almost distant. "Are they scars on your ears there?" "No," I snap, quickly. Too quickly. Lynna is more than clever, and I can see her solving puzzles in her head. My fingers flex. I have to kill her. I have to kill anyone who knows. "Did someone cut your ears, Renna? Were they...it cannot be...you cannot be a—“ In a fraction of a second, I slam her against the wall, my hands at her throat. My face is an inch from hers, my eyes carrying a calamitous warning. "Think wisely about your next sentence, Lynna. It could well be your last. Say it
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