The Cold, Hard Truth

Beginning of Book 9

Two Months Later....

Sarah

It’s warmer down here under the grow lights. Electricity hums through the air as I move from plant to plant, pruning, plucking, and watering. Outside the frosty windows, the Neutral Zone is every shade of silver in the unforgiving cold.

Someone passes bundled against the frigid, windy air. Their red hat disappears into a rush of snow being swept by the wind down the street.

I shiver despite the slight warmth in the air.

I’ve been cold for weeks. Cold, hungry, and stressed beyond belief.

The baby swaddled in a sling across my chest wriggles before falling back asleep, his cheek pressed against my breast.

I move to the utility sink in the storage room and wrench on the pump, but the water doesn’t start. The pipes are frozen solid.

“Shit,” I whisper, closing my eyes and trying to swallow past the lump in my throat.

Mr. Foxglove, my landlord, was supposed to be here this morning to fix the heat to the building. My one room apartment up