Sasha told us to get comfortable, but comfort doesn’t come easy. The four of us disperse to different corners of the barn. Jas and Kosti go up high, bedding down in haystacks. I’d follow them, but rotting ladders seem like a bad idea in my condition.
Instead, I try to sit propped against a barrel, a tractor wheel, and a pile of old saddles, but each one is more uncomfortable than the last. I can’t stop thinking about how many critters must’ve called this place home over the years, and how many might still. Every time I think I’m about to drift off, an itch or a tingle sends me jolting back upright.
Sleeping during the day is odd, too. Sun peeks through the gaps in the roof like it’s squinting in, trying to see who’s here and why. I throw an arm over my eyes to block it.
But lightning bo
