Kairo

There’s a different kind of silence that comes from someone who knows no one’s looking for them.

Brielle hasn’t said a word since the sun went down. She’s curled up on the cot, arms hugging her knees like they’re the last thing keeping her together. Her hair’s tangled, and her lip’s cracked from chewing it too much. Still beautiful, but in a way that makes your chest hurt to look at her.

Which is a problem.

I’ve never liked problems that come in pretty packages.

I place the bowl beside her. Chicken soup. Or at least the closest thing I could scavenge. She doesn’t move.

“Eat,” I say. “You...