The entire room was still, so very still. It was almost like the walls themselves didn't believe what Opaline had just said.
Melisande's question awaited an answer while turning the room even more tense. Opaline, who couldn't believe she had said that either, stood beneath the weight of three different stares.
Her father looked as though the word had physically struck him. Her mother waited for the correction she assumed would follow. Lancet and Spectra had stopped near the doors, neither moving while Opaline's hands trembled beside the folds of her dress.
The girl had two decisions. She could either apologize immediately and pretend she had never said that or she could follow through and finally break free from her prison.
She drew in a breath that did little to steady her. She glanced toward Corven once more, but he just remained where he was; close enough to notice, too bound by his position to interfere.
