Gar’dumor’s Truth (A Drabble Series, Part 15)

The last door opens — a particularly obtuse emerald — and we slip back into the sea. Blue algae spills out around us, glowing purple in Lais’ pink moonlight.

Demitra’s gaze lingers as the emerald-door crackles closed of its own accord, vanishes into stone. I shudder — they aren’t supposed to do that.

“No one can know,” her tone bites, “about any of it.”

Will she ever look at me again?

“I should pack everyone up, take us as far from here as possible.”

“Demitra.”

She’s shaking.

“We’re going to be alright.”

“What was that?!”

I glimpse Lais’ rippling reflection.

…Is she smiling?