Chapter 7 Unraveling Bonds

The moon spills cold silver light into the garden, the night alive with a soft drone of crickets. The shadows flicker under my feet, as if alive. My breath has gone shallow, my pulse a booming drum in my ears. I don’t remember the last time my body felt this alive, this tuned into something so primal. Jane stands before me, the flicker of the torchlight in her hand casting long distorted shadows against the moon lilies—my lilies. Her smile is an acute angle, something toxic, as if she thinks she owns all the power here.