Lena
The silence in the kitchen is louder than Max’s voice ever was. I’m still clutching that cold, metal card, the words “You’re mine, whether you know it or not” etched into my brain like a brand. I want to burn it, but my fingers won't let go.
"Is he gone?"
Mama’s voice from the hallway makes me jump. I quickly shove the card into my pocket. She’s leaning against the doorframe, her face pale in the dim light.
"Yeah, Mama. He's gone."
"He has a heavy spirit, Lena. Like a man carrying a mountain on his back." She looks at the door, then back at me. "But mountains don't move for anyone. They just crush whatever is underneath them if they fall."
"I'm not going to be crushed," I say, though my voice lacks its usual iron.
I help her back to bed, but sleep is a ghost I can’t catch. Ever
