She heard Jaren’s final words to her: How . . . could . . . you? She heard Caldon’s dead-sounding warning: You need to run. She heard Tipp’s wobbling, tear-filled accusation: You’re a C-Corentine? And then she saw her sister’s smug face, her moon-pale skin and honey-gold eyes laughing as her damning words repeated endlessly in Kiva’s mind: Well done, sister. I couldn’t have done this without you.
