Lyla
The silver light around Nanny was growing brighter by the second, and I could feel the air itself beginning to vibrate with the power she was calling forth. This was really happening. The woman who had raised me, who had been my anchor through every storm, was about to sacrifice herself to save us all.
"Mom," I whispered, reaching toward her with trembling hands.
She turned to me, and for a moment the terrible light dimmed enough that I could see her face clearly. Her eyes were filled with love and peace, the same expression she'd worn when she used to tuck me into bed as a child and tell me stories.
"My darling girl," she said softly, "Come here."
I moved toward her, and she pulled me into her arms the way she had countless times throughout my life. She smelled like lavender and home, and I buried my face in her shoulder as tears poured down my cheeks.
