“I told you, little petal, it’s dangerous out there,” Pamela says gently, fixing your hair. “Stay inside.”

She hates seeing her child—she doesn’t care that you’re a sporeling, you’re hers—upset, but this is far worse. Someone had hurt you. She warned you of the dangers of leaving. She’s seen the cruelty of humans firsthand. Pamela wants to protect you from it.

“I’ll be right back,” she says, kissing your brow to hide her rage. “I have something to take care of.”