Heat radiates from our shared body and my consciousness understands this to be rage, even hatred. Eventually, the heat burns off, leaving agony and sorrow. Shame and self-hatred. I circle young Mathilde, wishing desperately to make her glow again, to bring back the joy I had seen. But there is nothing I can do. And while the narrowing had been a black time, responsible certainly for much of the trauma in Mathilde’s life, it was the loss of her faith, that vast gold-edged love, that was ultimately most damaging and painful, impossible to come back from.
