Chapter 9 - The Poison
Elara didn't wait for Martha to formulate an answer to the child.
She stepped even closer, invading Martha's space until their noses were inches apart.
The older woman shrank back, pressing herself into the chair, finally seeing the absolute, unfiltered madness in Elara’s eyes.
"That was his only food," Elara hissed, the wet words spraying slightly from her trembling lips.
Her voice wasn't loud.
It was a guttural, terrifying growl pulled from the very bottom of her lungs.
She tightened her protective grip on the baby, her knuckles turning bone-white again.
"He’s allergic to formula."
Martha blinked rapidly, her eyes darting nervously from Elara’s furious face to the crying baby.
"He bleeds from the inside if he drinks it," Elara stated.
Her voice was completely dead, stripped of all emotion, presenting a horrific biological fact.
"You didn't sell milk, Martha."
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Elara looked down in disgust at the green bills scattered on the table.
"You sold his stomach lining. You sold his breath."
