“Kin—” I start, but her name is torn out of my throat as someone barrels towards me. Mom. Her wide panicked eyes are on this impending demise, and quickly, she clutches the frame of the bookcase—the bookcase that’s at least three arm-spans wide. The bookcase that nearly swallows my entire wall. The bookcase that’s seconds from crushing me. She tries to heave the thing upright. “Go, Luna! Leave!” Mom yells at me. I’ve never heard her yell like that—with so much urgency and distress.
