Canned broth?” asked Cynthia.“No,” Krys said, “I made it last week. You were at the beach.”She launched into the remainder, but Zoe stopped ...er, “You made it? How?”“In the pressure cooker,” Krys said.“What?”“Chicken bones from 2 chickens,” Krys said. She nodded at the chicken sandwiches. “Roasted ... What?”“Cynthia? Pen?”Instruments were found and writing ensued. Zoe used the back of the journal. Caught up, the hand with the pen made the ‘tell me more’ motion.Krys resumed,. Suddenly, she twisted and grabbed my wrists and dug her nails into me."Do you know why I didn't leave?" she screamed at me. "I didn't leave because if I did, and my mother came home, she'd have no way to find me!"The reality of that statement knocked the wind out of me, like a punch to the gut. I gasped. But with that, she'd reached a climax of a sort, and she relaxed her grip on my arms"She'd have no way to find me. No way to find me at all..." She slowly went limp.Then her eyes focused on. More

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