His Cruel Love: The Feather's Betrayal
d window, I could see a patch of gray sky. The town's laughter still echoed in my ears.
just a tired one. He brought me a
the bars. "I've been sheriff of this county for fifteen y
wer for him. I barel
My parents, who passed away when I was young, told me it was a sign. They ne
hey took my ability in. I was never just Ethan, the orp
ith games and scraped knees.
well's runni
w is sick. Can you
of land is barren
, to feel like I belonged. They would pat my head and
s, its healthy livestock. People from other counties would drive through and marvel at the lush
ot mine. I was just the e
s. But slowly, you start to feel the bottom. After a long day of mending soil or healing animals, I would come home with a deep ach
told Mr. Gable that I needed to rest,
ed that thin, pl
A gift from God
ed asking and started telling. The pats on the head stopped. Instead, I got impatient
at me not with gratitude, but with a strange mix of envy and contempt. I was a constant r
I tried to fight it, pouring my energy into the fields until I collapsed from exhaustion. My vithe first time, I couldn't
finally boiled over into open hatred. It was easier to call m
just tired anymore. I felt hollowed out. I had given them my childhood, my energy,
came back. He
. It's ridiculous, but they're a unified front. My hands are tied, Etha
my fate, made my chest feel tight. But what else was there? I had no one. The town of H
think about the town, or the crops, or their needs. I thought about the feather. The constant, warm we
red what els