“I’m not alone.” Laia buries her face in her mother’s hair. “I thought I was all that was left of us.” My eyes get hot, and the Blood Shrike looks away, rubbing her hand against her cheeks and muttering about mud in her lashes. “You’re not alone,” Mirra says, and her voice is gentler now. “And if I have anything to do with it, you never will be again.”
