I slipped the knife, blade still open, into the bag.
He looked around to see whether we were alone? We were...
I'm sorry Dana!
He took my hand in a grip I knew would be gentle until I tried to pull away.
Now he sat with me, wanting me to take the place of the dead.
She hated me, from the moment I first forced her.
Rufe...
What was he waiting for? What was I waiting for?
I realized how easy it would be for me to continue to be still and forgive him for this.
What else do I have to lose?
But it would be so hard to raise the knife, drive it into the flesh I saved so many times.
A slave was a slave. Anything could be done to her. I could accept him as my ancestor, my younger brother, my friend, but not as my master, and not as my lover. He had understood that once.
I was aware of him trying not to hurt me, even as I sank it into his side...
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