She wiped her hands on her breeches and laid her palms against the iron door. For a moment she had the oddest fancy that something in the metal breathed, You again. “Yes, of course it’s me,” she whispered. “I’m proving to myself that I’m not afraid of you.” But you are, that strange not-voice replied. “I like lying to myself. It’s fun. Would you just please do it?” It did.
