There are wounds pride can withstand.
There are humiliations that strength can endure.
But nothing prepares a mother for the moment her child looks at her… and does not see her.
The afternoon was thick with heat despite the dampness of the enclosure. The mud had dried in cracked layers against my skin, pulling at my cheeks, stiffening my hair. I had stopped trying to wipe it away. Water was scarce, and dignity had become a luxury rationed by cruelty.
The pigs were quieter that day, dozing in patches of shadow. Even they seemed subdued.
I sensed Selene before I saw her.
Perfume first.
Then deliberate footsteps.
I forced myself upright slowly, ignoring the wave of dizziness that followed.
She did not come alone.
At first, I thought my mind was playing a trick on me, conjuring hope
