Odile clawed and scrambled back, shaking and panting, her heart racing, and she leaned against the mountain and hollered back, “Hells, Bea, what’s your problem?”
He didn’t know that the trainers sacrificed a recruit, or that Odile helped to dissect the boy’s eyes. ‘Comparative tissues,’ the trainers had said. The boy’s brain too, the whole skull of that boy.
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.