like air passing across the mouth of a bottle.
The black wall appeared ten minutes later.
It was not really a wall.
It was a cliff face, slick with rain and dark mineral streaks. At first glance, it looked solid.
But Lily saw the hawk.
Not a carving.
Not a sign.
A natural shape in the stone.
A sharp beak formed where two slabs overlapped.
Under the hawk’s beak.
Her pulse slowed.
That was something her mother had taught her too.
Panic made people loud.
Fear made people fast.
Truth
