The Hunger

by Alma Katsu

In this, at least, his grandfather had been correct. Evil was invisible, and it was everywhere.

many people did not like the truth, it seemed—thought it was a dirty and distasteful thing, impolite and complicated. They didn’t have the patience for it—for numbers, liters, rations, portions, reasons. Many simply preferred the sweet, momentary pleasure of hearing whatever they wanted to hear.