His Last Regret, My New Life

f my family' s fading name. Tonight, I, Sarah Miller, was the offering, a supposed

roodmare, chosen to birth their l

The cold concrete floor, the smell of dust and ozone. I was tied

l forms on a steel table. "The offerings are ready," a scientist said, his voice

rocessors. O

ound. "David, no! Ple

me have these... abominations with you!" He gestured to a photo: Olivia Reed, "My Love." "You

iquid down my throat

en, I

ers choking me. Mrs. Thompson held my hand. David sto

he day of our f

hand from Mrs. Thompson' s grasp. My voice small, un

child was his key to power. I would hand hi