r P

past, making the edges of my hatred clean and precise. I didn't just remember t

n me might contaminate her. Once, I'd accidentally brushed her arm as I passed in a hallway. I watched her, from the

ime, his voice was flat, impatient. He wasn't asking about my well-being. He was asking if I had managed to stop being a genetic

ding me sprawling into the mud. He and his friends had laughed, a chorus of deep, mocking sounds, as I struggled to my feet, c

perfect mask of sisterly concern. She'd help me up, dabbing at the mud on my cheek

it. She's

licker of triumph in her eyes. The small, satisfied smile she hid behind

uly broke me, wasn't about public

unwell. A strange malady, they said, a recurring ache in he

This was my chance. A way to prove my worth. A

ous stretch of forest at the very edge of our t

s, my stomach aching with hunger, and I drank from streams, my ears straining at every snapped twig, terrified of being f

mall patch of delicate, silver-leafed fern

hing my muddy prize. I was a mess of scratches and dirt,

to knock. But I froze when I heard vo

amusement. "She really bought it? Mom just made that up because

be so mean, brother. She meant well. Even

like they were burning my skin. I couldn't

hid behind a statue in the hall. A moment later, K

rd, straight to the stone incinerator where the household t

silver leaves curl, b

ike my

ow. But this... this was the slow, grinding realization that I had never, ever been w

wind howled outside, a

old, hard vault inside my chest. The Ever who had sought their love w

place was a terrifying calm. It was the quie

g to explain. Do

hoed in the silence

lthy floor. I reached the wooden bowl. The oatmeal was cold now,

up with a

rime. I ignored

bowl to my li

ir. But I forced myself to swallow every

long, long f