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        ShiinaRingo’svoice—zyandwiredatthesametime—floodedthefour-tatamispastantly.

        Thiskindoflife—tingeverydolr,squeezingherselfthroughnarrosbehesystemaher’swatchfuleyes—tookupmostofheryouth.

        Thatwasexactlywhythoserareafter-schoolhoursinthebasementoftheoldactivityter—whenshecouldletthefive-stringbassroarwithoutrestraint—weresoprecioustoher.

        Andwhyshewouldn’tallowaoruinthem.

        Whichwasalsowhy,thatevening—thesameafternoonattheendofChapter1—wheainstudentabruptlycutstraightthroughtheband’srhythm…

        Crastoppedplug.

        Sheliftedherhead.

        Andintheeyeshiddenbehindherrimlessgsses,somethingfshed—rareonherface,sharpasabde:

        aggression,andunmistakabledispleasure.

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