"She's going to shatter."
Dante's voice was low and calm, but each word hit like a blade. He stood near the window in one of the deeper rooms of Hallow, arms folded, posture tight. Behind him, the wind howled through the jungle outside, and Tink and Snowflake let out chirps and growls of unease. But inside the house, the room held its breath.
Eric was seated at the long table, his back to the windows as his fingers tapped restlessly against a mug of untouched tea. Across from him, near the archway, Chang Xuefeng stood, arms crossed in front of him, gaze fixed on the flickering wall sconce as if he were watching memories in the flame.
"You've seen it," Dante said. "You've both seen what's happening to her. The only problem is that what we've seen isn't nearly one tenth of what is going on inside of her head."
