I cooked that mess with half a bottle of ghost-pepper sauce I found in the pantry. In a separate pan, I made clean food for Laya and myself.
I gripped the metal railing of the bed until my knuckles turned white. The cold lights in the room buzzed as if they were drilling into my skull, and the smell of disinfectant burned my nose. Clara looked like a war map. Her left eye was swollen, bruised all the way to the eyebrow. Her…
