Lumi felt it before she understood it.
A prickling at the edges of her awareness. A pressure building behind her eyes, like a headache forming in slow motion. The sensation of something moving in the dark places of the world — somewhere far away, somewhere close, she couldn't always tell which. Her power was growing. Changing. Becoming something she didn't have words for yet. Something that felt too big for her small body, too vast for her four years of life.
She told Mira about it first. Because Mira didn't look at her funny when she said strange things. Because Mira didn't ask questions she couldn't answer.
The other girl understood things Lumi didn't. Had been through things Lumi could barely imagine — the compound, the tests, the particular horror of being studied like a specimen. T
