A steady light filtered in through the windowsill, illuminating golden locks of hair, and sad, sad eyes.
Doubt ran through her mind. Humans had their emotions: she had no such thing. She only felt one, and that was sadness, wonder as to her purpose. Was she but a weapon?
Perhaps so. The Returners seemed to be encouraging her, pushing her forward, but that seemed to be only for their purposes. If she couldn't use this accursed skill, would she still be pushed? Or would she dropped, thrown away like trash?
Terra Branford only wanted to know: why was she alive?