Between Shades of Gray

by Ruta Sepetys

Have you ever wondered what a human life is worth? That morning, my brother’s was worth a pocket watch.

Why a priest? But then … why any of us?

But there wasn’t a pattern. Stalin’s psychology of terror seemed to rely on never knowing what to expect.

Ashes. I had an idea. I grabbed a stick from next to the stove. I peeled back the outer skin to reveal the pulp. I separated the fibers, forming bristles. I grabbed a handful of snow from outside the door and carefully mixed in ashes from the barrel. The color was uneven, but made a nice gray watercolor.