“When he dropped me, I had this second where I thought about channeling from the earth, and when I looked down…” My gaze slides to his relic. “I had a relic on my left wrist, right where yours all start. And my hand didn’t look like mine. Now that I’m thinking about it, it looked like…yours. Who knows. What was yours about?” He stares at me silently, and worry creeps up my spine. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “Because it’s my hand.” My fingers slip off his neck. “I just said that.” He sits up and I mirror the motion, holding the sheet to my chest. “It’s my hand,” he repeats. “You were
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