Leila’s POV:
Eight, fourteen, twenty-two. The words echo around inside my head manically along with Luna's howling as she tries to find comfort with Storm who looks equally afraid of whatever those numbers equate to. Something that I can tell when I let my eyes meet Ash’s he has no more of an idea about either. No one in the room seems to know on a conscious level but every stare I meet seems to beam back that same soul-deep trepidation I can feel slowly stealing like a weakness through my veins. Like silver poisoning and making rational thought almost impossible given how I can feel myself shaking where even Ash’s gentle touch does little to alleviate my fear.
What’s wrong? That’s what I keep trying to ask with my eyes since I’m afraid to speak aloud and break whatever spell of silence
