Page 43 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

I might be starving for now, but I still won’t go home.

Spotting a bench, I head over and take a seat. My feet hurt from walking too much yesterday, and I try to massage my calves.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I spot a pole full of fliers nearby. From afar, they look like job offerings—or perhaps it’s my wishful thinking.

Slowly getting up, I take a deep breath as I go to the pole.

I scan the fliers, noting that most of them are either news about the war or advice for people on what to do in case of another Blitz.

I purse my lips.

There goes my wishful thinking.

My stomach growls in hunger again. What I wouldn’t give for at least a slice of bread and some cheese. I won’t even be picky and ask for dessert. Just something to fill my stomachotherthan air.

I reach the last flier and stop.

My lashes flutter a few times as I try to make sure I’m seeing right.

Snatching the flier, I bring it closer to my face—yes, even my eyesight is now on par with that of a puny human.

Nurses wanted at RAF Thorpe Abbotts in Norfolk. Will provide accommodation, three daily meals, and a small monthly wage.

I read the flier a few times until I’ve memorized the lines.

Accommodation—I will have a place to sleep.

Three daily meals—I will go to sleep with a full belly.

A small monthly wage—I can buy cookies.

Giddiness erupts inside of me. I don’t know what RAF is, but nursing shouldn’t be too hard. I did fix that male the other day, didn’t I? I’d say I have the inclination for it—if not the desperation.

This is perfect. The answer to all my prayers. I will survive these one hundred and four days and I will show my brother that not even being on the same level as a puny human will make me return home.

Take that, Kai!

Now there’s only one issue. How the hell do I get to Norfolk?

SEVEN

What I lack in skill,I make up for with charm. Or at least I’d like to think I do. Otherwise, I’ve just spent all my remaining money on travel to Norfolk for nothing.

Chin up, Minerva. You cannot let something as inconsequential as skill stop you from getting the job.

That’s right. I’m a quick learner. I’m not squeamish since I’ve done my fair share of gutting and maiming. I do rather like the red hue of blood, so that won’t be an issue either.

I suppose I just need to learn how to heal instead of kill.

Can’t be that hard, now, can it?

The bus stop is a distance away from the location, and I trudge my aching body forward, trying to think about the rewards.

I hope they will provide meals on arrival, or at least upon hiring me. I am far too hungry to be able to wait until tomorrow.

At this point, I am ashamed to say I would take anything. Even stale bread is better than nothing. Last night, as I was twisting and turning in an effort to ignore the pangs of hunger, I even went as far as to consider grilling the little cookie thief in my room. Alas, I found him already dead in the morning—perhaps the landlady took care of him.

The grilling option remains on the table, however. I wouldn’t be the first to do so. Of that, I am aware.

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