EMBER
Bones ache. Like cracked ice. Cold. Rattle. Rattle. Rattle. Stench chokes. What ... oh. Iron. Rust. Wet? No. No. Blood. Sticky. On hands. Face. Teeth.
Alive. Still.
So, breathe.
Breathe.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Alaya wouldn’t wish her loneliness on anyone, especially not Darrius. For him, she wanted him to be deliriously happy. Even if it was without her.