Jethro...
Hunching over my phone, I let go again.
Wracking sobs, heaving ribs, and a dying soul screaming that nothing would ever be the same.
He’s dead.
He’s...
dead.
* * * * *
At lunchtime, Flaw appeared.
My only visitor and I didn’t know if he was friend or foe.
For the past while, I’d stared into space, picturing gruesome ways to end it.
I couldn’t cry anymore.
I couldn’t read Kite’s texts anymore.
All I could do was exist in a room where scents of love mixed with smells of war, settling deeper into hate.
Flaw didn’t speak, only delivered a meal of salad and cured ham. With sad eyes, he retreated from my room and locked the door.
It’d taken over an hour before I had the energy to move from my crumpled, soggy ball. Along with the agony of grief, I’d surpassed the craving of hunger, leaving me blissfully blank of basic necessities.
I shivered, but I wasn’t cold.
My stomach growled, but I wasn’t hungry.
My heart kept beating, but I was no longer alive.
I wasn’t human. I was a killer waiting for first blood.
Blood.
The thought of extracting hot, sticky red from Cut and Daniel kick-started my energy. My hand curled around my blade as I crawled across the carpet and poked the food.
Eat.
Stay strong.
Kill.
The ham settled like salty concrete on my tongue. Every mouthful wasn’t about nutrition or satisfaction—it was about building power so I was ready for war.
Minute by minute, my anger solidified. The Hawks had been untouchable for long enough. They believed no amount of treason or rebellion could dethrone them.
They were wrong.
Their reign was over. It was time for a new ruler. One who stood for justice rather than debts. One who would avenge those she’d lost.
They’ve underestimated me.
And they would die because of it.
