“I do, I do.” And their faces were turning, not quite touching, sharing breath. Creeping ferns coiled out from Priya’s hair. She blinked her green-struck eyes. Strangeness, horrific strangeness, and yet somehow Malini could not bring herself to let go of her. Priya’s mouth parted. Words, again. Words, always cleaving distance between them. “I think there must be a scale somewhere in your head, where you weigh out how much my gifts matter to you and how much the rest of me matters, and I think—the scale is tipped, isn’t it? Listing to one side. You don’t have to nod or agree or—I already know,
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