CHAPTER THIRTY-TWOMoving the Needle
The boy cried for more than a decent amount of time. I regretted how he clung to me and dripped salty tears onto my coat. He possessed no boundaries and I promised myself never to apologise to him again for fear of his waterworks. Bliss would have enjoyed knocking him sideways into another summer for his dramatics and I suspected his backside wouldn’t have survived my upbringing. Thoughts of Bliss made me smile although her loss still hurt. She raised me tough and created a fighter. I determined to make her proud.
Shaking the boy off and readying myself to march onward, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the path-delineator. Sorrel gave a disgusting sniff and wiped the slime from his face with the back of his glove. It left an unpleasant streak ac
