They had no idea I was there, this whole time, watching. Hidden in the thick shadow of the trees, I saw Rosie carefully approach him, stopping at a respectable distance while he was on his knees, by his father's lifeless body. She watched him, still as a statue with her head bowed.
I heard it all. Their words carried by the wind like a cruel gift, slicing through the silence, its wound, sharp and searing. Every fucking, cruel syllable. But I stayed put, rooted in the shadows, every inch of me shielded from the brutal sunlight. They had no idea.
When he leaned down and took her lips, something in me snapped.
Rage hit like a physical thing. Hot, stupid and immediate. I wanted to tear him open right then and there, break his neck and leave him there to burn underneath the sun right on top of his father's rotting corpse. Since he looked up to that fucker so much. Might as well, I thought.
But I didn't move.
