Chia stared at him. “That would kill the garden.”
But the next morning, Renn brought his little sister up to see the dome. The girl had never seen a flower. Chia placed a single herba bloom in her palm—tiny, white, fierce. It had cost three nights of sleep, a cracked pressure valve, and a gamble against extinction. chia anme
She was not a scientist. She was not a hero. She was a girl of seventeen with lye-scarred fingers and a journal full of failed cross-pollination diagrams. But she was the only one. Chia stared at him