Though it was more like an overstuffed bunker these days—an underground safe with a steel-bolted hatch, bulging at the seams with cartoonish exaggeration. Sometimes the rivets would burst and every single one of her deepest, darkest fears would spew out and rain down all over her psyche. Then Eve would have to go around and clean up the shrapnel bit by bit, stuff it all back inside, screw down the hatch and pray to God she didn’t leave anything behind.
