“You see it,” she whispered, and the fear on her face gave way to wonder. Zen was mentally preparing himself for more needling questions when she let out a breath. In a sudden, unexpected move, she closed the gap between them and slipped her arms around his waist. Her head bumped against his shoulder. There was nothing romantic to the gesture; it was a moment that sent a strange ache through Zen’s chest, a motion drenched in desperation. A little girl clinging to the last piece of refuge in a dying world.
