The scissors lay on the bed between them, a silent, silver testament to the destruction. The floor was a graveyard of Thea's talent, a thousand tiny pieces of paper that had once been birds. She had not moved, had not spoken, since he had entered the room. She just sat there, a hollowed-out statue of grief.
Kofi did not know what to do. There were no words for this. No easy comfort. He just sat beside her, sharing the suffocating silence, his own heart a dull, heavy ache in his chest.
The doorway to her room was filled with the worried faces of their friends. Nina, Ruby, and Jake stood there, a trio of helpless observers, their own shock and anger a palpable presence in the hallway.
Nina was the first to move. She stepped into the room, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she were approaching a wounded animal. She did not look at the destroyed drawings on the floor. Her eyes were fixed on Thea.
