Page 387

Then the apple jerks.

Something shoots from its center.

I flinch as a black seed strikes the ground between Ezra’s boots.

Spit.

Silence.

Rhett looks down.

Then at Ezra.

“Well.”

Nobody laughs.

Ezra stares at the seed like it crawled out of a grave.

I step closer.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

His eyes remain fixed on it.

“Go inside, Sage.”

I almost laugh.

Almost.

“Have you met me?”

His gaze finally lifts to mine.

Whatever I see there wipes the smile from my face.

Beneath us, the root twitches.

Not toward me.

Toward Ezra.

The mark around my wrist burns.

Somewhere impossibly far away, I feel rows of trees shudder.

An orchard.

Waiting.

I look at the seed in my palm.

Then the one at Ezra’s feet.

Two different things.

One freely given.