My chest swells, and when she reaches a hand up and tugs at my arm, I lie back with her, situating until we’re arm to arm, leg to leg. Her smile breaks through like the sunlight above us.
“And what does she sing, Goldfinch?” I murmur. “She’s singing to me.”Įmotion clogs in my throat as I watch her tip her head back again. One that you’re afraid of saying too loud in case it breaks. “The sun,” Auren answers quietly, tone filled with a tentative, innocent joy.
The sight is so damn beautiful that it’s hard to breathe. I pause, ears straining, but all I hear are faint sounds from the city below and the constant draw of the waterfall at the base of the mountain.Īnd she smiles, through the tears dried on her cheeks, through the glassiness of her eyes.
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