167
Sisters of the Moon
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177
“Always watching,” Silas says, looking at me. “Those big eyes, always moving.”
I nod, ashamed. “But I never do anything,” I say. And all of a sudden I know, I know why Angel left me.
Silas frowns. “Sure you do. You watch,” he says, “which is what’ll save you.”
I shrug. But the longer we sit, the more I realize he’s right—what I do is watch. I’m like Silas, I think. In twenty years I’ll still be alive.
On one side the sky is getting light, like a lid is being lifted up. I watch it, trying to see the day coming, but I can’t. All of a sudden the sky is just bright.
“Always watching,” Silas says, looking at me. “Those big eyes, always moving.”
I nod, ashamed. “But I never do anything,” I say. And all of a sudden I know, I know why Angel left me.
Silas frowns. “Sure you do. You watch,” he says, “which is what’ll save you.”
I shrug. But the longer we sit, the more I realize he’s right—what I do is watch. I’m like Silas, I think. In twenty years I’ll still be alive.
On one side the sky is getting light, like a lid is being lifted up. I watch it, trying to see the day coming, but I can’t. All of a sudden the sky is just bright.