My knees grow weak, and I collapse. “I was too late. I’m so sorry.” My chest aches with sorrow, but no tears come. When I glance down at my hands, I realize my gloves are gone. And even more peculiar, my palms are glowing bright like the sun. They burn, growing hotter and hotter, but the pain keeps me fixed in silence. Your voice washes over me like the low tide. Saika, what did you do?
Oh shoot did she do something? Is this an elsa moment?
