“In the end, Aziza was alone. Nothing moved except for her. The forest had an undead quality, like true death would have been more peaceful than whatever this was- the ash trees gone white and uncertain as ghosts, the silence tense as if the world was waiting with baited breath for an unfinished song to pick back up. Everything aware of her -aware in a way that felt real enough for her to touch, like a collar around her throat.”