Page 101 of Condemned By Pain
I fix my gaze on the clear, bright sky outside. Snow blankets the earth, making everything glow. It’s a beautiful morning after a cold night.
“I know it’s not the end.”
It can’t be.
Around noon, when I come out after my shower, I see I’ve missed calls from Mom. As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I hear soft barking and sprint into the living room—where Mom is playing with Rosie.
She’s just four weeks old. A fluffy bundle of black and white.
“Oh, my sweet baby.” I scoop her into my arms.
She licks my face and neck, wriggling in my arms with excitement. I cover her in kisses, giggling.
“She’s really therapy,” Mom chuckles, patting her tiny head. “I’m going to adopt one for myself. Screw your father.”
I laugh.
“Has she eaten?” I ask Mom, glancing at the bowl on the mat.
“Yeah, but not much.”
I nuzzle Rosie's neck. “She doesn’t eat much.”
“Let’s take her shopping.” Mom suggests with excitement.
“Let’s go.”
We reach the pet shopping complex, a ten-minute drive from the house.
“Why is no one surprised to see a dozen men around us?” I ask Mom.
“Everyone here is used to it. This part of the city is full of elites.”
Rosie squirms in my arms, craning her neck to look at the other dogs and their humans.
Mom takes her from me. “She’s an active baby.” She kisses Rosie’s face.
We enter Fur Care, a store selling bathing and grooming products. With the help of an attendant, we pick out everything she’ll need. Then we head next door to a shop with an array of cozy dog bedding.
I spot a pale pink mattress and head toward it. Mom is examining a dark blue one nearby. I glance in her direction—and crash into someone.
“I’m so—” I look up, and the words wither in my throat.
Another hallucination?
No.
I’m not hallucinating. He’s here. Right in front of me again.
“Wen?” Mom appears at my side.
She eyes him, then whispers to me, “You know him?”
I shake my head before glancing back at him.
“I don’t know him,” I whisper.
She hums. He says nothing, simply walks around me and out of the store.
