“Then…” The color leached from Lam’s cheeks until his skin was the color of stale matzah. “Then…that means…” Zayn’s nod was a solemn one. “It’s time, Lam.” “Time for what?” my mother called as Biscuit launched onto Zayn’s shoulder. As if on cue, the cerulean-blue sun crested the cliffs, illuminating Zayn and his resplendent firebird from behind. Biscuit casually shook out his wings, sending out a fine cloud of sparkles that hung suspended, scintillating like thousands of tiny diamonds, while crepuscular rays streaked from behind Zayn’s head like a crown of light. “The time has finally come,”
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