Hiding was not always about being covered from head to toe. Sometimes it was remembering the length of her nose, and the tips of her toes, and the exact distance from ribcage to elbow. Sometimes it was measuring bone and finding the precise narrowness of her shoulders. Sometimes it was seeing a small corner and knowing that she could fold entirely inside it without an echo.
But sometimes, Jennika knew, it was just being where no one thought to look.
So, she stood on the roof, the sun tracing her outline, her shadow lying like bold black paint on the eaves, because her bones fit better there.