Chapter 12. Surge of Anger

S:

I slam the lid shut.

Of the first coffin.

Or try to.

Midway, something catches my eye.

A glint.

Sharp.

Mocking.

Even under all this darkness, it shines.

Like it’s laughing at me.

Like it’s whispering — do you remember me?

I freeze, heart punching the inside of my ribs.

Slowly, I reach for it.

A corner of the coffin.

Half-buried under rot and splinters.

My fingers hook around it.

I twist.

Pull.

An earring.

A fucking earring.

I stare at it, the world tilting sideways.

Emerald.

Sharp.

Beautiful.

Expensive enough to feed a family for a year.

Sharp enough to cut open old scars I thought I buried deep.

My hand shakes.

Blood trickling down my wrist from busted knuckles.

Because I’ve seen it before.

I know it.

Years ago—

Back when they dragged me out of my hous