Jabbing him painfully in the ribs, Cally leaned her head on his shoulder and inhaled the crisp night air as it whipped past them. ILLUSTRATION | JOHN NYAGA
*** Cally had been sad before in her 18 years, but never like this. She’d been sad when her father died, she’d been sad living with Pierra, her stepmother, but she’d never felt a despair so deep it cut through all logic, making her want to fling herself into the deep rushing waters of the river she was standing next to.
