5TONIGHT NORA WAS more bothered by what King had told her than by the hunger pangs piercing her stomach. Her hunger was like the thorns from some plants that had pricked her palms when she mistakenly grabbed them as she climbed her way up to her and King’s hideout. She was accustomed to this sharp pain in the same way that she had come to expect the thorny vines and rough roots at every turn of her hands and legs. The anticipation of the pain somewhat blunted the stabs the thorns made on her palms and knees. She had been trying to fall asleep beside her younger sisters on the floor of the sala, which was also dining room and kitchen combined during the day, and the girls’ sleeping quarters at night. The bamboo floor beneath the tattered anahaw mat Nora shared with her sisters felt cold. No
