And Daughter In A Sealed Room | Father

The question was so precise, so perfectly horrible in its childish logic, that Leo’s throat closed. He had been thinking of it as a monster. She had reduced it to its simplest truth. Hungry.

Elara’s eyes were wide, drinking in the image. “And the sun?” father and daughter in a sealed room

“Yes.”

The outside was a rumor. Elara had no memory of grass, only the story of it: green, soft, smelling of rain. She knew rain was wet, like the tears that had leaked from Papa’s eyes on the second night, before he’d gotten control of himself. She knew the sun was hot, like the single lightbulb overhead when you stood directly beneath it. The question was so precise, so perfectly horrible