The next morning, she tried to speak, but her voice came out tasting of burnt sugar. Her tears tasted of salt and lost keys. She touched her own arm, and her fingertips told her the story of the cotton plant it was woven from—its drought, its aphids, the tired hands that picked it.

Healing from the Inside Out: Blanka’s Secret to the Perfect Winter Broth

These traits make it an essential crop for food security in arid regions of Africa, India, and Central America.