Day 1: Anne
1 ANNE
Seventeen dead bees.
Walking around the Towers for the first time since you fell, since you died, I keep seeing them.
Seventeen!
All but one on their backs, wings and legs curled tight, pollen still clinging. One on its legs, as if it landed softly.
I’ve never seen so many dead bees.
Are you the one who landed softly?
I looked it up in my old encyclopedia books: bees can die in droves on cold days, on windy days. It’s natural, not nefarious.
But it’s not cold today, Eli. It’s not windy today. What killed these bees? What killed you?
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