Bat eater. “What is it with bat infestations this week?” Harvey says. Neither Cora nor Yifei respond. Cora knows this isn’t an infestation but doesn’t say it out loud. She knows because the wings are ripped like old cheesecloth, tattered sails, flightless birds. This bat has been shredded by something. It was never meant to fly again. It was supposed to starve to death, trapped in Zihan Huang’s vents until the smell of rot filled her house. Cora turns to the vent, where there are several other bat corpses, some already melting into the metal.
