Come to Harm

prologue

No one believes, not these days, that evil stays in the places that saw it fresh and heard it breathing. Pain casts no shadow and death leaves no echo. Blood spills, it is true, but spilled blood can be swilled away, smears wiped up, stains scrubbed out, until the last taint and tang are gone, until pine and lemon fill the air. And whatever has seeped in too deep to clean can be painted over, bright and fresh, to let life begin again with a new chapter. That’s the modern way-no lasting marks. Nothing happened here.