Mason sat up in frustration, tossing aside the blanket covering him. He wasn"t sleeping. No amount of lying there with his eyes closed was going to change that.
He scrubbed over his face, rubbing over the barely there stubble of facial hair that had recently started to show itself. It had been nearly a week since the death of that unnamed Shade and he still couldn"t close his eyes without seeing his burned face or hear his silent plea for help.
In that week, Paul had kept his promise, teaching Mason things he should already have learned. That too was frustrating. He felt like a defective machine half the time, uncoordinated and fumbling his way through things most Shade kids could do at nine years old.
Mason stretched as he stood, pacing the small room for a few minutes thinking through
