Casting my stare up at the sky, I sob through short, sharp breaths that are so far from adequate . . . She lied for us. For him. Kaan. She lied for the youngling she carried all the way from their love den in Dhomm to this cold, caustic room where she’d lost so much already, all because she believed the words that spat out of my pah’s mouth. And for what? To die right here. To not see Kyzari grow. For Tyroth to raise Kaan’s daughter as his own. I close the diary, a venomous truth settling in my chest like a serpent poised to strike . . . These pages are going to rip the world to shreds.
