I hold my breath. “I thought …,” he begins, then hesitates. “I thought you understood my reasons, but perhaps—” “I do.” I peek over at him again. My voice is rough. “I do understand your reasons.” I have to look back at the horse. “When you did that,” I whisper, “you were so much more frightening than you ever were as a monster.” He inhales sharply, but I don’t look at him. I can’t look at him. “Because you made a choice,” I say, and my voice breaks. “Because it was you. Because it was someone I cared about. Because it was horrible.”
