The door slams behind the girls with a quick, final click that ricochets through Isolde's bones.
Ines's icy command, "Out. Now." still buzzes in both girls' ears like a swarm of angry bees. Isolde feels heat crawling up her spine, the leftover tension from Darien's explosion in that room, from Clarissa's collapse, from everything spiraling in every possible direction.
Daphne exhales shakily and grabs Isolde's wrist before she can even take a full step forward.
"Don't even think about it," Daphne mutters.
Isolde stiffens. "Daphne—Amias needs us. Clarissa…"
"I know." Daphne agrees, shaking her head. Her hand tightens around her sister's. "But if we go back up there and Mom finds out? She'll skin us alive and wear us like winter coats."
Isolde winces. She hates that Daphne is right. Hates even more that she has to turn her back on Amias when he's probably collapsing against a wall somewhere praying the Moon Goddess doesn't take his mother.
