I was old enough to know that being angry wasn’t easy. Dorinda used to say that cursing someone wasn’t a matter of spittin’ out words. You had to stay focused on the curse, nursing the words and the hurt, and after a while you wouldn’t even know that some part of you was still working the curse, because it got so deep inside you. I didn’t like that. If a thing was inside you like that, it had to be eating you up. Just stood to reason. I didn’t care enough about Madame, even in hate, to let her have that much of me.
