Then, slowly and deliberately, she pulls the material of her shift tight across her hips to show alarmingly sharp hipbones, but the complete lack of a knife. Her ankles are visible beneath the hem, showing nothing tied to one.
Her voice is very tight and controlled.
"And where, exactly, would I keep one?"
And why would she, when she was alone all morning, had as many opportunities as she could wish then, and yet lives?
Not quite unharmed, maybe, but alive. (Or close enough to it not to matter.)
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Then, slowly and deliberately, she pulls the material of her shift tight across her hips to show alarmingly sharp hipbones, but the complete lack of a knife. Her ankles are visible beneath the hem, showing nothing tied to one.
Her voice is very tight and controlled.
"And where, exactly, would I keep one?"
And why would she, when she was alone all morning, had as many opportunities as she could wish then, and yet lives?
Not quite unharmed, maybe, but alive. (Or close enough to it not to matter.)