Dad kicked a small metal basin toward me. It clattered against the stones. "Since you like washing so much, fetch hot water. Go wipe your grandmother's body and change her clothes."

My eyes lit up. *I can see Grandma?*

I scrambled up, nodding frantically. "Okay. I'll go. I'll clean Grandma right now."

Aunt Faith stepped forward, blocking my path. Disbelief was etched into every line of her face as she looked at my father. "The child is too young! All that blood... it will traumatize her."

My father sneered. "She caused this evil—she has to bear it. What? You feel sorry for her? Aren't you afraid she'll curse you next?"

Fear flickered in Aunt Faith's eyes. She stepped back.

Dragging my dripping wet body, I filled a basin with hot water and staggered into the main hall.

Everyone had warned me I would be scared. But fear didn't come. Only a crushing ache that made it hard to breathe.

Grandma's face was masked in dried blood. Half of her body was a mangled mess of flesh and bone, resembling nothing like the warm woman who had raised me.

Suffocating. I was suffocating.

I dipped the towel in the water and began to wipe her face. Gently. Again and again.

The clear water turned crimson. I went to the kitchen, changed the water, and returned. I didn't count how many times I ran back and forth. I refused to stop until her face was clean.

But her body... the damage was too severe. No matter how much I wiped, the blood kept coming. The flesh was ruined.

Watching me work without flinching, my mother's revulsion grew.

"Look at her," she hissed. "She really is a monster. A normal child would be screaming. She doesn't even look scared. She's not human."

Dad spat on the floor. "Cold-blooded animal. Why would you expect her to have feelings?"

Finally, an elderly aunt couldn't watch anymore. She gently took the towel from my hand. "Naomi... you can't wipe that clean. The injury is too deep. Just help us put her clothes on."

With her help, I dressed Grandma in her burial clothes.

As the adrenaline faded, black spots danced across my vision. The room tilted. I collapsed to the floor.

When I woke up, my head was throbbing. My skin felt like it was on fire.

I was still in my wet clothes. They had dried stiff and cold against my skin, making me shiver violently. The pungent stench of manure filled my nose. A glance around confirmed it—I had been thrown into the cowshed.

Panic surged. *Grandma.*