Her mother spun the girl around to face her, hands still braced on her shoulders. For the first time since this horrible nightmare began, the girl allowed herself to meet her mother’s gaze directly. It was bright amber green, identical to the little girl’s colored right eye. In that split second, she took in her mother’s familiar face—high, regal cheekbones, dark brows that framed a piercing, calm gaze. She had never seen her mother visibly scared or shaken. Even today, that did not change. “None of us can follow where you go, Tisaanah. But you have everything you need to survive. And listen
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oh the poor girl
