Black Heart
Chapter 1
The wooden cradle teetered back and forth and the hinges groaned in familiar protest as the tired woman hummed absentmindedly to the little babe within. Much like the grain of the wooden cradle, the woman’s deep-set wrinkles and kind, sunken eyes told a story of a life well lived. This child was not hers, but she would watch over her for the rest of her days, days that she hoped would be longer than she believed likely. She considered this as she watched the wood-starved fire in the corner of the room flicker weakly and cough up its last remnants of heat. She sighed. It was no use worrying about a future she could not change.
