ANYONE WANNA READ THE LIL EXCERPT I WROTE FROM BOOK 3 AGES AGO?
Brush strokes on canvas landed more like killing blows, drawing shapes and shadows from the flickering in the corner of their eye. "Evelyn Mason. Born 23rd September 1996 to Hyun-Jae Mason and Elijah David Mason in Smithton, Inverness." The shadows closed in, threatening to take over the stretched fabric entirely, but a strike of shimmering red pushed them back. "The mother divorced her first husband to elope to Scotland with her pathetic excuse of a new man. Nonetheless, this new union birthed her younger sister Angela: another child with the same potential (file ref. #0007IB). The mother, therefore, seems to be the source of this child's psychic potential -- though evidence of this is yet to be uncovered. I will continue to observe the sisters' potential as they grow." Swirls of yellow and flecks of ochre dashed across the painting, splatting the canvas with burning sparks watching them from the darkness. "Addendum 1999-06-24: Both Hyun-Jae and Elijah Mason have died to apparent suicide, and the children have been transferred to an inner-city care home. This may present problems."
The brush tore through space, carving a black hole in the midst of the shadows and sparks, and Evie cursed under their breath, pulled from their trance as they stepped up to eye the tear with a frown. Another tape-up and paint-over; that was the third broken canvas in as many days. They weren't sure why they'd been so tense lately. It had been weeks since they were given their files; weeks to process everything they'd read, but they couldn't shake the fury and fear every word of it still bubbled in their chest.
Not that it took much to scare them, these days. Surrounded by their family's fears almost constantly was enough to keep them distracted back at the Facility, but now they all had their own space in the mansion Angie and Elyan had found for them and Evie didn't have to be bombarded by their pain any longer -- meaning now there was nothing stopping their own creeping through the cracks of their carefully-built guards.
I'M SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS ANGY ENBY DISASTER
