(Kali's back story after Rhane had left)
A young girl of about seven with deep black eyes stood outside her house, her palm dressed in small cuts.
Kali learned very early that life was not gentle. It did not knock before entering, it did not apologize when it broke things, and it did not slow down for small children with thin wrists and hungry stomachs.
She was seven when Rhane left. Seven, old enough to understand abandonment, young enough to still hope it wasn't forever.
Kali was left alone to live with their mother, though lived was a generous word. They existed under the same roof, in the same space, breathing the same air but not together
The memory of having a brother was there but the face of her brother was something the little girl couldn't remember. Maybe it was because they never saw each other without being covered in blood.
"Where is Kali?"
