“It’s not the Click-Clacks,” she said, her voice a tiny, rational bell. “It wants in.”
She was quiet for a long time. He could feel her thinking, the small pulse in her wrist fluttering against his thumb. father and daughter in a sealed room
“My turn,” Elara said, her small hands clasped in her lap. “Papa. What does the sky look like?” “It’s not the Click-Clacks,” she said, her voice