Sebastian dug through the viscous layers of foul-smelling clay with a shovel, each successive insertion creating an obscene sucking noise that ate at her sanity. It was partly to pay a grudge he had against father. Sebastianus claimed to have met her back in Mantua after the betrothal. “Who’s your violin teacher?” He asked. They unloaded Michelle’s sleeping parents who had been propped up in the back seat, necks craned against each other. He had bled everywhere, but she had struck when the opportunity was ripe. Impressed with this idea, he paused for a moment to listen.
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