Harvey’s body is a slurry of soap and blood, and Yifei is a crushed soda can, but those are not the images that sear into Cora’s vision. The brightest, loudest memory is the two of them standing over Cora at Delilah’s altar with their hands on her shoulders, when the spice in the air stung her eyes and Harvey was holding his mouth open for dumplings and Cora still had hope. A killer tried to unmake them, but he failed. Harvey and Yifei are still here.
