“Akiva, people commit murder for that kind of curse. People have betrayed their own brothers, done horrible things, for that curse”
The rise and fall of muted jazz was suddenly deafening.
Libby’s heart was racing so fast, she worried she was going to pass out. Was this what a panic attack felt like?
The other patrons in Trufflei continued eating and murmuring and laughing, bathed in a golden haze that suddenly excluded her.
Akiva was looking down at his plate silently. She was glad for the quiet; he’d said a lot and she’d hated every word.
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