The Clock and the Carnival (The Pawn and The Puppet #5)

Prologue

Sapphire S. Valdawell

Five Years Old

I was five when my little crush on him was extinguished.

I was five when I gave him a wooden carving I made from a red oak tree, a beacon, just like the ones my father made for my mother when they were young.

I was five when he held it in his hands during class, examining it while I said the carefully rehearsed words. I’m gonna love you until hell freezes over. Again, just like my mother and father would say to each other long ago.

I was five when hell turned to a solid block of ice in the bed of my chest.

I was five when he looked at me with those cold, ocean-blue eyes and spit in my face. The act itself was too vicious and cruel to be from another five-year-old. It was thought out and intended to wound. It was followed by a smirk sharper than a Vexamen sickle.

I was five when Niklaus Demechnef broke my heart.