Pale blue eyes followed Cass’s every move—sad, accusatory. Why haven’t you found me yet? Cass fled outside to escape a marble sculpture of her dead friend in the portego only to see her small hand reaching through the sandy soil of Agnese’s flower garden, her fingers curling like orchid petals. “Not real,” Cass told herself, stumbling across the front lawn until she reached the path that headed toward the shore. “Cassandra.” The wind off the water called to her in Livi’s singsong voice. Cass put her hands over her ears. She made it to the shoreline, where the sun reflected off the sand, turning the ground beneath her feet a porcelain white. The tide was coming in, and each roll of the surf delivered a giant block of ice. Inside each block was a girl, imprisoned. Cass wanted to turn, to run, but instead she began chiseling away at the ice. The sun began to melt the ice and the cold water ran down Cass’s body in frosty rivulets, freezing her from the outside in… Cass sat up in bed, fully dressed.
