Epilogue

I couldn’t burn it or someone would smell it. I couldn’t bury it or it would be noticeable, or throw it away, as someone would find it. I had no other choice.

I grabbed it and pretended it was moth wings. Night fell as I slowly ate, and midnight came as I finished it.

‘Heart eating a heart.’ I could have sworn I had heard someone say it.

I hosed myself down to wash away the horrors I had just done. I walked back indoors, drenched, and found my father in our kitchen. I dripped all over the marble tiles, but he didn’t question me. He only asked where my brother was.

‘He went after mum.’ Was what I answered.

It wasn’t a complete lie.