Page 47 of Bitter Truths

“Thank you,” I say.

“For what?”

“Saving me. Bringing me here. Giving me a reason to get up in the morning.”

Megan’s quiet for a long moment. “You’re saving yourself, Bianca. We just gave you a safe place to do it.”

That night, I sit on my porch looking at the stars and realize I’ve stopped wondering if the world would be better without me.

I have a purpose here.

I’m not fixed. But I’m doing a little better.

I’m... present. Breathing. Living instead of just surviving.

That feels like enough.

9

BIANCA

Five Years Later

“Three more, then coffee.” I draw back the bowstring. Dawn’s creeping through the trees, all gray and misty, the kind of morning that makes everything look fuzzy around the edges. It smells like wet dirt and old leaves. The bow feels like part of my damn arm at this point. My callused fingertips hardly register the string anymore.

I line up the shot and let it fly. The arrow cuts through the air and slams dead center into the target I rigged up between two pines.

Perfect.

I ready another arrow, adjusting my stance on the forest floor. My boots don’t make a sound. I move like a ghost. This spot is mine, hidden deep enough in the woods that no one from the refuge bothers me here. Just me, my bow, and the quiet I crave.

Well, and the squirrel that’s been judging my form for the past ten minutes. The little bastard’s perched on a branch like he’s keeping score. He doesn’t look impressed.

The tiny gold bee sits in my pocket. I touch it through the fabric. It’s an old habit now, a way to remind me of my own strength.

I used to need people around me constantly. I hated being alone, hated the silence that let my thoughts get too loud. Now I seek it out. I need it. The solitude feels like safety, like control. Out here, I answer to no one, depend on no one, trust nothing but my own aim and instincts.

Another arrow. Another perfect hit. I look over, but my squirrel friend is gone.

By the time I finish, the sun’s up and people are starting their day. Marc waves from the training ground. I can hear some of the others sparring already. I’ll join them after breakfast.

Ellie calls out from the garden. “Bianca! I made a list for you of the seeds we need for the fall garden.”

“Thanks, El. I’ll be by later to grab it.”

She nods and turns back to pulling weeds.

Which reminds me, we also need antibiotics. Vera’s respiratory infection has been relentless, and our supply’s running low. More climbing rope too, since someone managed to fray half our good line last week. I’ll need to check with everyone later and make an actual list.

“Morning, badass Barbie,” Megan steps beside me, bumping my shoulder. Her overalls are smeared with pastel paint and dried flecks of clay lingering beneath her nails. “Any innocent woodland creatures suffer your wrath today?”

“Shockingly, no.” I glance at her sideways, lips quirking. “I even made friends with a squirrel.”

She tilts her head, skepticism flickering behind her brown eyes. “Friends? Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Have you seen Ez?”

Megan’s lips curl into a smile as she brushes dried clay from her fingertips. “Still tangled up in his blankets, most likely. Unlike some people, he believes in sleeping in on his days off.”