Not Getting Warmer

Crowded streets all cleared away one by one

Ravi opens the door, a bottle of something potent and wicked clenched in his hand. The scent drifts passed Amber’s nose, and it infuriates her. She grabs the bottle and he takes her by the throat, drags her inside the house. She curses, screams, wrenches it from his fingers and hurls it against the wall. She is a rewarded with a fierce backhand. She had never cared for Ravi.

“Your son is dying. In the woods. Alone. I can show you where he is.”
She doesn’t know if it will work, if he will care, if there’s still some sense of love left in the vinegar coursing through his veins. His glare tightens.
“What have you done with my boy, witch?”
He spits the last word, a curse that holds weight in no mind save for his.
“Close your robe, and follow quickly. If you fall I’ll leave you there.”
He closes his robe, ties it shut.
“If he dies, I’m sending you after him.”
She trembles, regains her courage. Focuses.
As soon as she feels the cool night air on her face, she runs.

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