Bloodwalker

 

Sylvie turned the plastic bag of flesh over and over in her hands, unable to believe what she was seeing. From every angle, the truth assaulted her. The broken bones bore human tooth marks. A dark chasm of shock opened inside her. She’d prepared many bodies for burial but never a child’s. Her eyes began to sting, and her throat closed up.

 

The death was horrible enough, but this poor child’s remains were in a shabby camper, wrapped like trash. No one had cared for the body. No one had put it safely in the ground. No one had mourned over the grave.

 

Who could have done such a thing?

 

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