Chapter 7 - The First Question
Silas swallowed.
His throat felt like it was lined with crushed glass.
He didn't want to break the silence.
The silence was safe. The silence meant nothing worse had happened yet.
But the sun was beginning to dip, and the desert night did not care about the size of the bones it froze.
He kept his voice low.
He stripped the bass from his chest, making the words as soft and smooth as a worn leather saddle.
"Where are your mother and father?"
The question floated across the dry rocks in the barrel.
It hung in the air, heavier than the heat.
The older girl did not flinch.
Her left arm remained locked across her sister's chest.
Her eyes did not leave his.
She did not blink.
May you like
She just stared, digesting the words with the cold, mechanical processing of someone who had heard the same question from men who looked just like him, right before they rode away.
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