Story Time #4
That was just another Memory, of course. That Memory lead to another, the pealing of a bell. Her mother’s name, on stone.
It was the only time Mira wore violet. Violet, the color of the murky underworld, a world tucked too close to a real one.
Tick.
The walls of the room are swathed in violet. The mirror reflected the velvet’s implicit menace.
“Mira, only we know what you’re capable of. I need to see your Thoughts.” The Voice cut through the darkness crisply.
