Chapter FIFTY-TWO
TOBIAS
WHEN HER BODY first hit the net, all I registered was a gray blur. I pulled her across it and her hand was small, but warm, and then she stood before me, short and thin and plain and in all ways unremarkable—except that she had jumped first. The Stiff had jumped first.
Even I didn’t jump first.
Her eyes were so stern, so insistent.
Beautiful.