She takes a deep breath and grabs my shirt off the floor near her feet. Stepping onto the edge of it she uses both hands to pull on the material, throwing her whole weight into her task, until the shirt rips. Then, she starts shredding it. I watch her in amazement. I thought she was meek and delicate, but as I observe her glorious rage, I realize how very wrong I was. There is fire in her and fierce life. The people who hurt her, who broke her spirit—they haven’t banished it completely. And I will find every single one of them and make them pay.
