A part of her was glad she didn’t know what the rice was mixed with, after all. It might have been something she’d never heard of before, or even something that was just wrong to eat. She could be committing some sacrilegious act, like eating a bird, and not even know about it. Today, she wouldn’t be able to handle that. Not on top of everything else.
She stuffed the chunks of rice past her tongue, and suddenly it triggered her gag reflex, preventing her from swallowing. Yet she still couldn’t stop herself from putting more food into her mouth, choking it down even as her throat ached, as tears formed in her eyes. Then she was staring at the empty leaf before her, her fingers sticky, fighting the impulse to retch it all back up. Or cry.
But that would draw attention, and she couldn’t d
