COLD STEEL, BLEEDING HEARTS
“I… I don’t understand…”
“Maya, wait,” Julian whispered. He stepped in front of her, flickering with blue light. He looked at the child, his face twisting between deep love and uneasy suspicion. “This is Chapter 100. This is the end. But we haven’t written the title. How is she here already?”
Suddenly, the golden door behind the child started glowing with a sick silvery light. The warm smell of home—fresh bread and lemons—vanished. Now all Maya smelled was the cold, metallic air of a hospital lab.