Later, after Mary was fed and given clean clothes, Friedrich lit the stub of a candle and led her to an unused bedroom, fitting the bed with the new sheets that the boy had brought. Friedrich followed the pitiful wailing to the tumbledown remains of the kitchen, and there he saw her, a golden-haired angel crying into the red-checked pleats of her favorite dress, little round legs drawn up under her, like a marionette trying to sit down. Indian sex “You kill,” said the other. One of them made a gesture, placing cupped hands to her lips, and Mary knew what she was being told to do: Drink. And the boy himself, well, she ought to have better taste, but she was young, and she would make mistakes. “Well enough,” said Friedrich. He retaliated by squeezing her throat, choking her lightly, and at first her heart welled up in a sense of panic, but after a moment
