Chapter 12
Callie lay on her narrow cot long after the house had gone silent, staring up at the cracked ceiling, unable to settle her mind enough for sleep to take her.
She kept seeing his face. Gray with pain, jaw locked tight, that faint sheen of sweat catching the candlelight even while he sat perfectly still trying not to show how much it cost him just to remain upright. She had seen plenty of suffering in her two years at the camp, more than she cared to remember, but there was something about the quiet way he carried his pain that stuck with her, refusing to let her rest.
It is not your problem, she told herself firmly, turning onto her side, pulling the thin blanket higher over her shoulder. You have your own plans. A few more days, maybe a week, and you will be gone from this ho
