CHAPTER 9

Janice sat, as still as Ozymandias, looking as if she would crack and tumble into weathered rubble as easily.  Give her points for not interrupting with questions, at least.  Now she’s wondering just how crazy I am—or worse—realizing it might all be true.  The woman had sat in stony silence throughout the entirety of Amber’s tale, but a spiderweb of fault-lines formed in her foundation early in the telling, and only grown from there.  When Amber finished, Janice’s eyes were wide and vacant, one hand raised to her lips as if to hold back manic titters.  Her eyes darted left and right, either looking for escape from the lunatic before her, or monsters watching from the shadows.

One thing Amber knew with certainty&h...

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