CHAPTER NINETEENLove and Hate
“He cut you!” Sorrel’s breath warmed my cheek as he leaned across. “I believe he hates you.”
I forced my left arm to move, sending my fingers to examine the sore place beneath my ear. It hurt less than the cuts on my finger pads and I sighed. My right shoulder ached when I moved it, but I sensed already that exhaustion put out my lights and not pain. I lay on my lumpy mattress and wondered who carried me there. Limah, I guessed and my heart softened towards him. The thought invoked a sense of safety associated with my childhood and his constant, silent overseeing.
“Hosta brought you broth, Este,” Sorrel said, his voice overloud in my painful head. “Limah said you stood on your feet long enough, but she thumped it on the cabinet as though she disagreed. I be
