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I was taken to my knees by the fear alone. While she has endured the thing itself. Maybe it is not the same thing exactly because he was not her child, but then I think that is a very small way to look at love. He was hers, and beloved, and he’s lost. I am sick with the terror of this thing, and I think that to survive it must take a fathomless kind of strength. It’s this strength, her strength, that takes the edges of me. Those edges that crumble first into the sea.