I open my eyes. The medical suite is dim, lit only by the soft, blue glow of the monitors. Kade is sitting in a chair beside my bed, his eyes closed, his breathing deep and even.
I turn my head.
Elara is sitting up in her bed. She is looking at her hands.
I sit up slowly, my muscles aching, and walk over to her. "Baby?"
She looks up at me. Her eyes are no longer the swirling, cosmic galaxies of the interface. They are her natural, luminous silver. But there is a depth to them now, an ancient, terrifying clarity that makes my breath catch.
"Mama," she says, her voice quiet, carrying a faint, dual resonance that vibrates in my teeth. "The loop is holding. The geometry is perfect."
"I know, baby," I say, sitting on the edge of her bed and gently brushing a lock of dark hair from her for
