Her fear was increasing, too, because every second without Daddy was another second in which he might be killed. He was her world. If he died, she couldn’t go on, she really couldn’t, because what happened to him would be her fault. She wouldn’t kill herself or anything like that, because suicide was wrong. She would just become anorexic and wither away, until she was skin and bones, until she was dust that a cold wind would blow into Hell. If Hell existed. She was of two minds about that.
Amity growing more fearful of loosing her only parent
