“I didn’t choose this. It fucking chose me. It killed my family. My mother. My father. My older sister and my little brother. It knew where I was hiding. It looked directly at me and put its finger to its lips and let me live. Maybe that was its idea of a joke. Or maybe it wanted to me to grow up and hunt it down. Hunt down all its kind.”
I said nothing. I had no comforting words. What she needed now was an ear, a listener who knew she was not crazy. Tonight we would drink her beer and scotch. I would make sure she drank enough water to dull the hangover. Tomorrow we would go hunting. She would provide the drive and the anger. I would keep her alive. We were both daughters of spiders. Hers had been a species that parented with evil.