As the initial shock faded Sal’s tears dried up. She didn’t feel better, quite the opposite, but a numbness grew in her chest and spread throughout her body. She couldn’t get the image of Shola’s smashed body from her mind. Desperate to focus on something, anything, else she stood up and looked into the capsule again. After a few moments she spread the blanket out over the shattered remains of the little girl’s body.
It helped, but not much. Covering Shola’s body didn’t erase the image in Sal’s mind. She reached into the capsule and began to release the face mask. Her hands brushed against the skin of Shola’s neck. It was stone cold. Sal shivered. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to touch a dead body. Slaves died. When they did their fellow slaves had to deal with the body.
