Chapter 6 — The Crescent

And then, as the grime lifted away under the sponge, something surfaced on the skin of her shoulder, and I went still.

A birthmark.

Small, and shaped like a crescent moon.

The sponge slipped out of my fingers and splashed into the dark water, and all the air went out of my lungs at once, and my hands began, without my permission, to shake.

“Turn around,” I whispered.