Chapter Twenty-Three
Beulah rushed into the room just as Pakua slumped over on his side. His chest and torso were bared. She saw that the wound on his side pulsed as though it was not just living and breathing. As though it was screaming.
Beulah knelt over him, unsure what to do. She reached her hands to the wound.
“No!” His hand arrested her motion without actually touching her.
He stared at her, his lids heavy with pain, but his eyes bright. His breathing was labored, his chest heaved. His fingers shook before hers. She did not move her hand closer to him. She did not move it away from him.
She looked into his face. It was the same face as Yehfe’s only darker and without the bright smile of acceptance. She reached her fingers past the roadblock of Pakua’s hand to touch his lips. The
