Willow Baylor, Prillon Prime, The Capital
“Congratulations, Willow. It’s a ninety-nine percent match.” My dearest friend, Makayla, squeezed me one more time as I waited for my turn to transport. “I am so happy for you.”
“Thank you. I can’t believe it. I’m---numb.” What my friend didn’t realize was I meant that quite literally. I should be excited. Smiling. Excitement should be bubbling through me like champagne fizz in my veins. I felt nothing, like I’d been erased.
You’re still hiding. Stop pretending you need a big, bad alien to protect you.
You’re still hiding. Stop pretending you need a big, bad alien to protect you.Shut up.
Shut up.I didn’t want to talk to the stubborn wench who lived inside my head—a.k.a., the old me. The me from a former life. She’d been in charge before I’d be
