Narration(Xander): A sting settles deep in my throat. Tightens my voice and makes me self-conscious about the sound.

Narration(Xander): It's easier not to say anything in moments like these.

Narration(Xander): If I look away will she vanish like smoke? Leave me alone in my garden again?

Narration(Xander): Instead we hold this gaze...not quite pleasant...but entirely without pretense.

Narration(Xander): I can barely bring myself to touch the thin fabric of the shirt.

Narration(Xander): These scars that I've only seen in Grant's mind...white with age, almost flat? Hardly! Fresh. Brutal.

Narration(Xander): She raises an arm and I can see the twisted melt of a burn. Angry red. Skin pulling and stretching...

Narration(Xander): I swallow th elump in my throat, but it won't go away.

Narration(Xander): I can't help but run my fingers over the needles scares on her arm...as I begin to realize...

Narration(Xander): ...this story is much worse than I want to imagine.

Narration(Xander): She's threatening to tell me the truth. Smash my rapture and drive me away in horror.