A sharp laugh forces its way out of Cora’s throat. Those people should see what fear truly is. Let them taste their sister’s blood, watch her headless body twitch, hear her throat still wheezing for breaths that won’t come, gurgling as the blood drowns down the wrong pipe. Let them remember it every time they close their eyes, whenever they hear the sound of a train, whenever salt stings their lips. Remind them that the same thing could happen to them any day, and then let them talk about what fear really means.
