In The Heart of Dystopia
“Sola, we’re so sorry for the loss of your father.” I stared down at the hand placed on my shoulder, acknowledging the pressure but feeling no warmth. It was gone as quick as it had been there. My vision blurred as the person walked away and was replaced by another. And another. And yet another. The sun was low in the sky before I could retreat to my room after the approving nod from my mother.
