Izabel bolted awake on the sofa, sitting up with a yelp. Lucas had been curled asleep beside her. He leapt away, yowling.
The TRUTH stone had fallen from her hand while she was asleep. It lay on the floorboards, glimmering in the rapidly dimming light from outside. Slowly, she leaned over and picked it up, her brain feeling too full and her movements deadened with the cold feeling she vaguely recognized as clinical shock.
A whisper came out of her mouth, almost on its own: “I remember.”
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