I figured it out eventually," she says. She's sitting on the edge of the gurney again; her features slowly materialize as my vision clears. "It's momentum." "What?" I whisper. The feeling returning to my lips, spreading out to my fingertips and toes. "Momentum," she repeats. "You can't just stand there if you want something to fly. You have to run.

I stare at her collarbone that's framed with lace, the hollow of her throat, her shoulders that rise with each rise with the weight of her next breath. We're fragile things. Our bones show through our skin. What would any god want with us?

I can hear my brother's voice in my head. Your problem is that you're too emotional. But how can I not be emotional, Rowan? How can I not care?

You've been captive for so long that you don't even realize you want freedom anymore.

Humans are the absolute worst thing to happen to this planet.

Maybe hope isn't the most dangerous thing a person can have. Maybe love is.

There is a dark place calling to me, but I will not go just yet. I know I can't return from it.