Chapter 8

The chill in the words made Emma shiver. "Dude, that's cold."

"Guess who taught me to be that way." His mother wanted to make sure he could make the hard decisions. She probably never imagined he'd use that skill on her.

His fingers tightened around hers, and he took long strides up the hall, forcing her to match them or get dragged behind.

Since the topic of his mom triggered some pent-up rage, she turned instead to check out the spaceship. Unlike the Annabelle, this sucker totally screamed futuristic awesome.

The floors were smooth tiles. Light grey in color, but lit from underneath, the soft glow illuminating their steps while the curved ceiling overhead, just slightly taller than the tips of her fingers - yes, she reached to see if she could touch - also exuded a faint light.

The walls and ceilings appeared made of a single piece, a light yellow in color and only broken up by the occasional door with a control panel offset from it.