![]() ![]() Alnwick Castle has become home for hundreds of refugees, some so sick they are beyond help. ![]() There are so many, I’m not even sure where they’ve all come from. Rows and rows of sick lie wailing on their beds, each in excruciating pain, their battle crueler than the day Captain Hanz Otto Oswald Kretschmer bombed London. ![]() I feel a pang of sympathy as I think of watching my own parents die.ĭaring a reluctant glance, my eyes scan the sea of people. Doc predicts it will be only a matter of days, if not hours, before we lose her to the disease. The Professor, like Bella, is far worse than the others. Having cried herself to sleep, Gwen’s head rests on her forearm as she holds her mother’s frail hand. They look so tiny tucked beneath their blankets. Gwen sits three beds over, her siblings, Mikey and Joanna, lying between us. When the pixie-faced girl finally relaxes, I stand and stretch, working out the ache in my muscles. Her eyes flutter as she drifts into a haze. Controlling the urge to retch, I hum a lullaby as I sit near Bella’s bed, made up of hay and old blankets, and administer another dose of painkillers. The rancid scent of rotting flesh and the sound of distraught whimpers make my stomach turn. ![]()
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