And it was getting better, Revy thought fiercely. Closer to normal. Most of what she planted in the garden grew now, even if carrots still sometimes came up clover or kudzu, even if cabbages cried in the night and tomatoes disappeared. The ruined fields were still mostly barren, but Revy had seen weeds growing there, leggy and yellowish but no uglier than weeds usually were, so maybe the damage was starting to fade, maybe the spilled magic was draining away.

Later, far later, at a different door, Luz would realize why this conversation had felt so awful, and she would bristle and rage at the wrongness of it; in hearing that name that wasn’t her name at all. But in that moment all she felt was shame in herself. She had bolted from the old door, tears streaming down her face, and found herself wanting to be anywhere but there.