Chapter 13 · free to read
They printed my face and stamped it closed. Turns out the safest thing in this city is being a boy who already lost.
Forty years she hid people one at a time. Tonight she handed me the whole map like it weighed nothing.
Un-writing costs. It always did. I just stopped keeping the receipt where anyone could read it.
Every night Sota lit himself up in my shape so the hunt would run the wrong way. Every night less of him came back down.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.