Chapter 9 · She Still Knows His Name

Maya's hand is on my throat before I can breathe.

I don't see her move. One second she's across the room. Next second cold fingers wrap my windpipe and lift me off the concrete. My boots scrape air. The light in my chest flares white-hot, skin burning from the inside, but her grip doesn't shake.

"Maya—" I choke out.

Her face is two inches from mine. Eyes still green but the pupils are too wide, black threading through the whites like ink in water. Her mouth pulls back. Not a smile. Something that used to be one before it forgot how.

"You shouldn't have come." Her voice is hers and not hers. Like she's talking underwater. "I told you. Stay out."

My light pushes harder. Wants out. Wants to burn her hand off. I shove it down and the pain nearly splits my ribs. "I'm not—leaving—without you."

She laughs. Worst sound I've ever heard.

Then her fingers loosen just enough for me to suck in half a breath and she drops me.

I hit the floor on my knees. Coughing. My chest's still lit up under my shirt, glow bleeding through the fabric.