Page 103 of When Death Parts Us


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“Well done,” Momma praises and scoops the chopped vegetables into the eggs, handing me a spoon.

I stir while Momma lights the range. We’re a really good team.

“Ready to pour?” she asks, and I nod before we lift the bowl together and dump the eggs into the pan.

I watch them go into the oven. It’s my favorite part, to wait until I smell the food. That’s how you know it’s almost done.

“Let’s set the table,” Momma says, handing me the plates.

I’ve just finished placing them in their spots when glass crashes onto our floor and a rock skids past me.

“Run, baby girl, run!” Momma tells me, but I’m frozen. I can’t stop looking at the windows, where the rain is coming into the kitchen. The floor is getting wet.

Momma lifts me and shoves me in a cupboard, slamming the door.

It’s dark in here.

The back door bangs open, and I jump at the sound.

Boots are stomping around the kitchen.

Momma is screaming, “I beg you, don’t do this.”

“King’s orders.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” she yells. I can see her legs through the gap in the wood.

“Should have watched the company you keep, then.”

Momma gurgles, and I see her fall to the floor.

I know she doesn’t want me to come out, but I want to see if she is hurt.

No more boots are stomping.

Just the rain pounding in my ears.

I push the door open slowly, peeking out to make sure it’s safe, and then crawl across the floor to her.

Momma is bleeding, a red slice across her neck, and her eyes aren’t moving.

“Momma,” I say, shaking her.

When she doesn’t respond, I lie next to her, stroking her arm over and over, waiting for Father to get home.

The back door bangs in the wind, and I jump again, clutching Momma tighter.

The eggs are burning, and I’m shivering.

I should close the back door. But I don’t want to leave Momma.

Hours pass, and my tears won’t stop. Father is late, and I’m trying to be strong.

The sun rises, and morning light streams into the kitchen. I can’t cry anymore, and it’s hard to keep my eyes open.

Footsteps.

I lift my head to the doorway, and Father freezes, staring at us.