She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. Stanley regarded his neighbor’s clean-shaven face almost warily. ” “Yes. Sheppard. So long as she could remember, her father had never permitted her to sit at the table unless she came fully dressed. To return.
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