When she finished the last blank page, she looked at her reflection in a puddle. Her eyebrows were gone too.
The bell chimed like a swallowed sigh.
The chapter told of a woman who cut her hand on broken glass while fleeing a burning house. She ran for miles, not feeling the pain, until a stranger offered her a thimble of milk. Only after drinking did she look down and see her own blood had been writing a message on the ground: You are allowed to stop running .
When she finished the last blank page, she looked at her reflection in a puddle. Her eyebrows were gone too.
The bell chimed like a swallowed sigh.
The chapter told of a woman who cut her hand on broken glass while fleeing a burning house. She ran for miles, not feeling the pain, until a stranger offered her a thimble of milk. Only after drinking did she look down and see her own blood had been writing a message on the ground: You are allowed to stop running .
