“No tears for your mother, huh?” One of the mercenaries peered over his shoulder, letting out a scoff. “Cold.” “They’re always like that,” the slaver said, matter-of-factly. “Unsentimental.” You did this, the little girl wanted to scream. You refused to take her with me. She wanted to shout, she wanted to sob. She wanted to let herself collapse on this dirty cart floor, pound the wood with useless fists, weep until she vomited.
craaaazy
