I couldn’t be weak. I had to hurt my sister. I had to end our relationship to save her. To save all of my women. I needed to rip out my own heart.I ...idn’t want to.My teeth ground together. What choice did I have? Rithi would undo her miracle that saved my wives. All my women but Ealaín, Ava, Greta, and Carsina would die. I trudged against the weight in my boots. My heart beat faster and faster. It ached. I wanted to clutch it.Zanyia, padding beside me, looked up at me. Her ears twitched. Her. Was a frumpy, lumpy old redhead, with a wide ass and a prominent boob shelf jutting from the shapeless sack dresses she wore. To my nineteen year old self, she seemed ancient, although I suppose she was somewhere in her late fifties to early sixties. My room was on the third floor of the old house, sort of an attic under the roof with sloping ceiling and two dormer windows. There were two overseas grad students on the second floor, who I rarely encountered, and Mrs. W. resided on the main. More

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