Standing atop a hill at least half a mile from the amphitheater, the distant 80’s classics thrum through my head. The band isn’t overly popular, but they’re free, so the place is packed. The outskirts are the perfect place for an introvert like me. This is shaping up to be an extraordinary evening.
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If Brandy heard one more person tell her what a good wife she would be, she was going to drown a sailor.
She heaved a deep breath as she twisted her silver locket around her fingers and walked down the dark cobblestone streets. It was a paltry trinket, certainly not a token of love, though it had been given to her by the man she loved.
“In this town, folks know better than to lie.”
I peer at the scruffy, middle-aged man over the top of my sunglasses. “P-pardon?”
“No need to take offense. I was only giving you some friendly advice.”
“And what happens if I lie? The lie police come drag me off?”
The man grimaces and glances over his shoulder, as if expecting someone.
I bury my fingers in the crumbling dirt. The world around me is a dry, desolate place with the broken earth burning into my bare legs where my pleated skirt does not reach. The sun beats down upon my breastplate. Even my own tears have dried out.
The only liquid in sight is Jayson’s blood.
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