For She Is Wrath

by Emily Varga

But in the end, the last voice I heard dictating my steps was my grandmother’s. Never show them your fear. The weak feed from fear.

The problem when someone you loved betrayed you was that you had a lifetime of good memories with them that you had to examine in a different light. What was once a safe place to be—beside him, engulfed in his arms, inhaling the smell of rainstorms and pine—was actually the most dangerous place of all.