Valek leaned back in his chair and said to me, “I don’t think I would have made it past the audition,Yelena. I probably would have set my hair on fire by this point. ” “What’s a singed head for the sake of art?” I teased. He laughed.
She was singed, bleeding, bruised, and furiously alive.
Persistent distrust is the flame of deceit. Be as good as your word or be singed by the heat.