“What time is it?’
‘Whatever time you want it to be,’ she gave him a cheeky wink. ‘Now be honest, did you ask for free will?’
‘How did you—?’
Amanita joined Mario beneath the covers. The ethereal Threads tethering her wrists phased through the thick wool blankets like sunlight through a windowpane.
‘The bird that acknowledges its cage only ever sings of freedom,’ she said dreamily.”