from the bed and threw me in the back of a truck. The so-called resort was a s

ft said, gesturing

swaying on my f

d hit me, a clean, hard punch to the jaw that sent me spraw

nding over me. His expensive s

ng up dust. His men watched, their faces blank. They kicked me again. And again. They beat me until

ide felt like it was on fire, and my head throbbed with a nauseating rhythm. I didn't know whe

ody screaming with every step. I must have been a pit

person to see me was Mrs. Finch. She was sweeping her porch. Her eyes widened, not with

g their distance. They stared at my battered body, and the

his way to the fr

sneered. "He's c

her man shouted. "Haven'

d, my throat raw. "I

t's spread to the corn. The whole harvest is ruined. This is your d

rown in jail, and now they were blaming me for the consequences of their o

voice shaking with a mixture of pain

man cried. "But you took your gift a

ng with a new, terrible idea. "He's right. T

his face a mask of

will lose their house. We have all suffered because of

owd. They liked this idea. I

broken, painful soun

ng across his face. "We figure the damage you've caused, the lo

so nonsensical, that I could only stare at hi

me with hungry eyes, as if I could somehow pull

nsane," I

l. "We're just collecting what we're owed. Yo

beating I received for refusing to be a tool, and now my spirit was being crushed by the insane dem