Viola
Sherl and Diego keep eating, though I don’t know how. I can’t do much else besides perch nervously, like a cat. On the narrow ledge under the one darkened window. On the arm of the chair that sits beside the air conditioner. On the foot of the bed, knees pulled up to my chest. Wherever I go, Sebastian gravitates away, as if he is repelled by some negative magnet in me. I don’t even think he’s doing it on purpose. Somehow, that makes it so much worse.
An ache takes up residence in my chest, and I can’t make it go.
They mostly discuss Twist, Sherl and Sebastian bouncing ideas back and forth between them on where he might go to lay low, if he were injured or in danger. It’s obvious they know each other, and know Twist, extremely well. They’re a family, in every way beside blood, in e
