Elena thought of the jars of regrets back in the cottage. “Did you—cut people’s lives?”
Elena’s fingers trembled. She understood then that Miss Butcher had been arranging things, attending to the town’s invisible threads, cutting here, tying there. Whose work was this, she wondered—the gentle domesticity of a neighbor, or something more exacting? She told no one. miss butcher 2016
Miss Butcher’s eyes softened. “A long time ago. Not everything I did then is worth repeating.” Elena thought of the jars of regrets back in the cottage