Qeya River varos

Phoebe was learning early that betrayal could come from any direction. Mamá tried to steal her hard won rock and the tiny, sooty girl hummed with a growl, sidestepping to avoid her touch.

But, well, balance wasn’t at the top of the baby checklist. Phoebe wobbled, side to side, rearing up to prevent the capture of her rock, but only succeeding in pitching ass over teakettle onto her back.

She let out a muffled shriek, a mix of pain and rage, wiggling her fat little limbs at the sky like a grub.