Chapter 24

• I only let Kendall rest for a few moments after my breakdown, grabbing the two bug-out bags that I’ve stashed in the pantry in the kitchen. The sound of the zipper tearing through the silence feels deafening, my movements sharp, driven by urgency. The cool metallic pull of the bag in my hands contrasts with the warmth of the dimly lit room, which suddenly feels stifling.
• There’s so much we’ll have to leave behind, but I don’t care. The air tastes bitter, like regret, and I shove it aside, focusing on the task.
• I walk into the bedroom, my footsteps muffled by the worn carpet. Kendall has her eyes closed, her lashes casting shadows against her pale cheeks. The dark bruises beneath them look like smudged ink, sharp against her too-fair skin.