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“Then someone planted another one.”

Silence.

I slowly turn.

Malakai raises both hands. “Wasn’t me.”

“Rhett?”

“Still asleep.”

“Ezra?”

“Inside.”

I stare at the garden then at him then very reluctantly… I look.

Son of a bitch.

Thirteen. The newest stalk is barely six inches tall.

Green. Healthy. Normal.

I hate it immediately.

“Pull it.”

Malakai looks personally wounded.

“Kai.”

“It hasn’t done anything.”

“It’s corn.”

“Yes.”

“That’s enough.”

He reaches toward it but the stalk bends away from him.

We both freeze.

“No.”

Malakai’s hand stops and the stalk straightens.

I put my coffee down. “Nope.”

“Sage.”

“No.”

“It moved.”

“I saw it.”

“You said they weren’t supposed to do that anymore.”