Page 121 of Depths of Destruction
A shudder runs through her body.
I quietly repeat, "Promise me."
"O... Okay."
I tuck the hair behind her ear and locate her lips. "Good, baby. I'll be behind you, okay?"
She nods.
"Can you tell me what hurts so I don't make it worse?"
"You aren't. Just hold me."
I tug her closer, and she rests her head back on my chest.
"Ezra. They had Ezra."
"Your boss?"
"On the tree."
New goose bumps break out on my arms.
"Ezra's dead." Her voice is hollow.
Santiago killed her boss, too?
"What if they don't come?" she mumbles.
"They will."
"But what if... I can't go back...oh God." She breaks down and sobs.
"Shh. I won't let them get to you. Try to go back to sleep."
Her tears eventually dry, and her sounds lead me to believe she is asleep again.
Trees.
Men.
Blood.
Death.
What does it mean?
The mystery of her pain is a knife that twists in my heart. I stroke her leg, and I cringe from the rough terrain of her skin.
Is it dried blood or a scab?
If it's dried blood, is it hers or someone else's?
If it's not blood, then what is it?
The beating of my pulse pounds in my ears. I play different scenarios in my mind about what to do should our captors try to hurt her again.
Several hours pass. The road is smooth for a while then becomes bumpy again.
