“It’s me!” The pitch of Not-Marie’s voice careened up like a bird. Her whistle tones pierced through me. With the word me, Not-Marie’s face contorted. The sides of her lips parted through her cheeks and back to her ears to reveal row after row of needle teeth. The wetness of her mouth made them glisten. The second lid of her eyes flipped over, turning her black eyes a foggy gray. Any familiarity I’d found with my lost sister vanished. My heart pounded in my ears. The truth of our situation hit me. My sister and I were in a cave with a monster.
