Chapter 4: A Cold Warning

Late that night, after Mom and my brother passed out snoring behind thin walls, I snuck into sister-in-law’s room. I pressed a box of baking soda into her hand—the only thing I could find for her wounds.

"Sister-in-law, it’s not medicine, but it’ll stop the bleeding. Tomorrow I’ll go look for herbs in the woods. Grandma taught me what helps."

She stared at the orange box, then at me, and laughed—a sound sharp and twisted, like wind chimes in a graveyard. Goosebumps prickled up my arms.

I swallowed. "What’s so funny?"

She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached out and patted my head. Her touch was cold as a popsicle straight from the 7-Eleven freezer, and just as shocking. "Don’t eat the snake meat. Not even a bite, you hear me? No matter how hungry you get."

I didn’t understand, but nodded anyway. "I promise, sister-in-law. Cross my heart."

She finally let me go, her hand dropping away like something dead.