26
I spun around as the door shut behind me. There was a shadow next to the door. It didn’t look frightening or thick. It looked more like the person making the shadow had forgotten to show up. Like Peter Pan’s shadow had finally won his bid for freedom.
I took a breath and looked down to where I still held Elizabeth’s hand. She didn’t look like someone had dumped ink over her head anymore. It was more like she’d become a charcoal sketch of herself, drawn in gray scale with soft edges all around. The only white left was her eyes.
Elizabeth sighed. “Well, choices were made. Some choices were bad.”
My laugh caught in my throat.
“I find the choice with the best chance of leading to my survival is usually the right choice,” Eric said from across the room.
“And I don’t have to be”―my voic
