Cora begins to register the sting of smoke in her eyes, but the sensation is welcome, it sharpens her vision. “I’ve never…” She trails off. Never thought it was possible? Never wanted to trust in something beyond herself? In many ways, it doesn’t make sense. Cora would make the perfect member of any religion, the kind of person who doesn’t want to decide, who wants a textbook to tell her what to do. But Cora has always kept that kind of unwavering trust reserved for only one person. Delilah has always been Cora’s God. For one brief, sharp moment, Cora thinks of her mother singing from treetops
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