Glint (The Plated Prisoner, #2)

by Raven Kennedy

Dedicated to those who see no bars but still feel caged. Fly.

Gold may gleam, but it doesn’t stand the test of time. It wears down, loses its luster, becomes nothing but a needy, malleable surface with no durability.

Time changes with torment. It stretches on, lengthening seconds, extending minutes. I’ve learned that pain and fear have a way of prolonging. And as if that weren’t cruel enough, our minds make sure we relive those moments again and again and again, long after they’ve passed. What a bastard, time is.

“Oh, Goldfinch. You think I’m a monster now, but you haven’t seen anything yet.”

“You want to make your life easier? Then be the caged bird that you are and sing.”

I think some questions can’t bear to face the light. It’s easier for hesitant words and feared answers to be given in the dark. At least then, we can hide them in the shadows—hide ourselves from them.