Chapter 22 Broken Glass
The noise of the riot around her—the tearing of cardboard, the wet chewing, the grunts of people fighting over salt-cured meat—felt a thousand miles away. I did this, she thought. The realization wasn't a slow burn; it was a physical blow to her throat. She had stood on that chair. She had talked about the water and the peaches. She had poked the starvation until it turned into a beast, and then she’d unchained it. "Sarah! Get up!" Janice’s voice hacked through the haze. She was still clutching the toddler. "She’s gone. You can’t fix a hole that big with your bare hands." Sarah looked at her palms. They were coated in a thick, dark gloss. "I told them to come up here, Janice." "You told them the truth." "No. I gave them a reason to die." Sarah’s voice was a flat, dead rasp. She looke
- Writer
