We're Eating, Not Killing Children
I'm frozen. I know my shock must show on my face.
That kid almost died? For a moment an image flashes in my head of Chase--who was there--sprawled on the ground, his skin grey and cold. Inwardly I recoil. Why does that idea disturb me so much? I swallow, then remind myself it doesn't matter. It can't matter. He's trying to derail me.
So I shove past him—to try to. It's like trying to push past a barn. "You have no idea what I'm a part of." I mutter.
"You want to bet?"
"Oh for the love of—Chase, seriously. Leave. Now. Leave me, and Amy, and get it through your thick skull you aren't wanted here. And I'm sick of telling you this over and over again. You have no clue what's going on."
"You might be surprised. Try me."
I drop my face in my hands in frustration. "You wouldn't understand."
"I said, try me."