Two Eyes Cenote pétalo

It was a question she might have gathered enough context to answer.

She didn’t. Unmoving, her eyes sink down to the floor, absent of glorious faith, closing to the spine-shuddering rush of children’s screams.

Lancelike, her turn for the door, seeking the exit. Only once did she pause, gaze fixed coldly ahead, but speaking  to Khusobek:

“I will not be back to check on this room for three days.”

There it wove between the words: do what you will.