Gunpowder's sharp scent lingered in the city air the morning after the fireworks.
Elliot dragged himself out of bed, his body aching from the previous night's celebrations with Victoria.
A tight, restless feeling sat in his stomach, and out of nowhere, he longed for a simple cup of warm honey water.
It took him back to country mornings, to Margaret preparing it for him without fail.
He used to complain about the faint bitter note, but she would only smile, "I know how to ease a sensitive stomach. Yours has never liked the cold. Just drink it."
She'd watch until the cup was empty, then quickly pop a soft candy into his mouth to cut the sweetness.
Now, a hollow weight filled his chest. A dull pain gathered low in his belly—only something warm would ease it. Almost without thought, he n
