The flicker of hope burned fragile, but it was enough to hold the boy through the week. He no longer reached for the thought of ending it every night. He watched the sky more, whispering questions about the world beyond the walls.
But shadows always returned.
One evening, Griggs beat another child so brutally that the sound of the cane on flesh echoed long after. The boy inside me flinched, the hope crumbling like sand. "If it happens to me again, I won't survive," he whispered.
Fear wrapped around us both. What if I wasn't strong enough this time? What if I lost him, like so many had been lost before?
The truth was heavy, undeniable.
If he fell, I fell.
And all of this would be for nothing.