Sarah was twenty-nine, stubborn, sharp, and usually the strongest person in any room.
Seeing her limp against me turned my blood cold.
I dragged her inside, kicked the door shut, and lowered her onto the living room rug.
She cried out immediately.
“I think my rib is broken.”
My phone buzzed.
Mom.
The message appeared on my screen.
Don’t help that cripple. She’s a traitor.
I stared at the words.