Then the sky split open.
Her hair had escaped its bindings. Long, dark strands (ash-blonde when dry, now the color of wet sand) stuck to her temples and the nape of her neck. She shivered—not from cold alone, but from the vulnerability of it. Skylar Snow was a woman who controlled rooms. She did not get caught in storms. She did not drip. skylar snow soaked
"You look terrible," they said, water dripping from their chin. Then the sky split open