Chronicles of the Marked Luna
“How did you manage to get her out of the room? She hasn't spoken to anyone in half a year,”
“I didn't, she came to me,” I replied softly, staring back at her with a clueless expression.
“The tattoo on her hand, what does it mean?”
My question fazed her, “What tattoo?”
“The Crescent moon — it's on her hand. And someone at school said something about a mark, is that it?” I pressed on. I could see how pressured she was by the conversation.
“I… I believe your aunt — Betty needs me,” She walked past me to my grandmother's room. I attempted to join in but the door was shut almost immediately.
Bab Populer