Chapter Text
Get some
Pull up the ladder when the flood comes
Throw enough rope until the legs have swung
Seven new ways that you can eat your young
On September 15, 2013, in Bloomington, Minnesota, a man named Garrett Jacob Hobbs is shot in his own kitchen ten times. This story is not about him. In the same kitchen, the man who shot him falls to his knees, trembling, after emptying his round. His name is Will Graham, but this story is not about him either. It is about the girl lying on the floor, choking on her own blood. Her name is Abigail Hobbs. Somewhere, on the other side of an ocean, another daughter who has survived a trial by blood at the hands of her father is sleeping in a coffin. This story is about her, too, but for now, Abigail Hobbs lies bleeding out. It’s the first time, but it won’t be the last. As she lies there, dying, Will Graham makes a desperate effort to save her life. She hears her father’s last word, ‘See,’ and wonders distantly if this man really does see her the same way as her father does. Did. She prays he doesn’t. Then the darkness clouding her vision prevails, and Abigail Hobbs is dead. She doesn’t see light. No grand entrance to heaven. It’s just thick, velvet blackness enveloping her. But it’s not over.
For better or for worse, it won’t be over for a very, very long time.