““Yrene didn’t know what to remark on first: That the girl was young—perhaps two or three years younger than Yrene—but felt old. That the girl was beautiful, with golden hair and blue eyes that shone in the candlelight. Or that the girl’s face would have been even more beautiful had it not been covered in a patchwork of bruises. Such horrible bruises, including a black eye that had undoubtedly been swollen shut at some point. The girl was staring at her, quiet and still as a cat.””