ALAENA’S POV
I had watched Papa die.
His headless, lifeless body dropped to the ground.
That had broken something inside me—a deep, raw wound that never healed. I had thought nothing could hurt more than that moment.
Watching that small child’s headless body collapse to the ground shattered me in a way I never knew was possible.
The sound of her body hitting the dirt was louder than any cry, any scream, any fight I had ever fought.
I could still see her in my mind—her wide, terrified eyes, her trembling lips, the way she clung to hope even when there was none left.
And then she was gone.
Just like that.
The cold wretched hands of the Croonies yanked me forward forcing me to move, but my legs felt like stone, as If they no longer belonged to me.
Two of them flanked me, their twist
