” The figure of her aunt, a little distant, a little propitiatory, behind the coffee things, filled her with a sense of almost catastrophic adventure. His grip twisted her wrist. Sheila found out. They were sharp and dripping with black blood. ” She wondered what to. She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain. She was faint from hunger, her head spinning into dizziness, the blood madness readying for battle.
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