"But her spirit – heaving, heavy headed – was like a roadblock against the darker ghosts that seeped into our house. But she stayed strong. It was as if she set up her pain like a scarecrow in the yard. And when no one was looking she stuck her finger into it like honeycomb, allowing herself one quiet taste. It was just long enough for the veins of her past to swim up for a spell, stretching their arms and yawning, before reaching her heart..."