She was sitting on the barrel, her knees drawn to her chest, her injured hand cradled close. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten or drank. Her lips were cracked and her mouth was so dry her tongue felt swollen. “Are you thirsty, sanam?” He held a tin cup out to her. Juliana grabbed for the cup. Precious water sloshed over the side, soaking into her pants. She pressed the cup to her lips and drank deep. The water burned as it went down. She gagged and it came back up. Saltwater. She was dying of thirst and he gave her saltwater. Her anger came from nowhere, overpowering her fear, clouding her mind. She was dying. So thirsty she would have licked a puddle if she could find one and he knew it. With a cry of rage, she threw the cup. It hit his chest, splashed on his face and drenched his shirt. He took a step back and raised his hands out to his sides in surprise. Water dripped from his chin and slowly he raised his eyes until they met hers. He backhanded her.
