“Yes, someone did this to me, if that’s how you want to put it. They plucked me from the crowd that day in New York and they stripped my old life away from me like the thick layer of country dirt that it was.” It ran its palms along the mottled skin of its arms, tenderly, as though remembering when the flesh had been smooth and perfect. “A little gasoline and a flame, that’s all it took.”
“Miranda,” I said, because I thought maybe saying her name again would bring her back to me, “I thought you left. I thought you left me at that intersection, you’re saying someone took you?”
