POV: Kenny

Everyone looked at me like I was fragile, but something big was growing in my chest, and it did not hurt anymore.

“Easy,” someone whispered.

I opened my eyes.

The ceiling above me was white stone, cracked like it had been put back together in a hurry. Light leaked through the cracks in thin golden lines, and for a moment, I thought the sun was broken.

“Kenny?” Papa said.

His voice sounded tired, not angry, tired, but the kind that comes after crying when you do not want ...