“No,” Mal says, hands on her hips as she starts to pace in front of me. “No, you don’t get to have me. You don’t get to say you’d find me in the darkest part of the night like we don’t both know that you’re the one who keeps leaving me there!” She’s vibrating with energy, her features a kaleidoscope of volatile emotion. “You buried me. With your secrets and your hope and your promises that you can never seem to keep and then you come back here after four years of silence and expect me to be thankful that you remembered how to find my grave?”
