“Breach,” whispers the second iunctus, her brown eyes still staring glassily upward. The other children’s eyes snap open. The golden light around us fades to a throbbing, virulent red. And then every eye rolls and focuses on me. Just me. As if Netiqret and Kiya did not exist. “Breach,” they whisper together, eyes lifeless and glinting crimson.
THIS IS TERRIFYING
