She paused and pulled something from her pocket. Holding it gently between her fingers, she let it catch the faintest glimmer of light.
"—this." A single feather.
She ran a thumb over it, then looked up—not at him, not fully—but from the corner of her eyes, quiet amusement ghosting her lips.
"You think it looks familiar?"
The moment those words hit his ears, the sparrow's feathers twitched. A single drop of sweat formed near his brow—then another—and soon, they began to trickle down his cheek like nervous little streams.
Across from him, Kaya stood with a smile. Not just any smile—one of those terrifyingly calm ones. The kind you wear when you already know the truth and are just waiting for the confession to walk right into the trap.
It wasn't fair, really. The sparrow gulped hard, his throat clicking. He knew—he knew—he was doomed either way.
If he confessed? Kaya might snap his neck before he could blink.
