Here, it might be anything at all. She awoke and found herself home amid a pile of three bodies, one of which she recognized as a former denizen of the household. ’ She sniffed and swallowed. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man. ’ ‘What name would you like, then?’ Her shadowed features turned in his direction. Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. His voice now had lost its ironies. She broke a cobblestone over his head and he was out. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. “What did it matter?” she cried.
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