Glaring down at the cracked stone floor, Zoya rolls her shoulders and dislikes how the tension clings to her muscles. She huffs slightly, temporarily causing a breeze to sweep around the church. Those in the pews remain undisturbed despite the breeze ruffling their hair.

"Then it'll break the window. Pick it up. It's not going to break itself."

Never mind that she's the one who needed a break.