Neveah recoiled. Her stomach roiled, the contents of her last meal threatening to greet the floor. Her brows furrowed, and she backed away to the door.
The woman sitting by the table didn't seem fazed by the stench in the slightest, or by the decaying mess a few inches away from her.
Instead, she reached for the cradle at intervals, pushing lightly to keep it swinging.
Neveah's gut clenched in protest. A thousand thoughts were running through her mind.
Who was this woman and what exactly did she want from Neveah? And by the Creator, was that a...dead baby?!
Neveah retched again. She doubled over, clutching her stomach.
While Neveah struggled to regain her bearings, the woman broke the silence first.
"Since when did you become so squeamish?" She asked, her tone hollow. "I raised you better."
Neveah blanched.
Raised? This woman had raised her? Just how many unknown family ties did she have from her past? And why did each connection appear to be more depraved than the last?
