More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
It’s only dying. Cordelia felt something like a shrug ripple through her skull. It was a very odd sensation, and accompanied by the smell of black licorice. It’s not even the third most awful thing that’s ever happened to me.
Proper murdered ghosts always go shrieking and wailing about, or enchanting harps that shriek their killer’s name aloud or something like that. But it seems like so much work. And I’ve always been a very lazy person, you know.
