[There is blood all over Rhode's white stockings, and she is kneeling on the ground a crumpled form, her umbrella over her shoulder as she peers down at the body before her. It is impaled with numerous black and purple wax candles, but Rhode doesn't look remotely bothered, and she smiles.
It doesn't reach her eyes.]
You're lucky.
[Rhode whispers
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What did you do, Rhode? Why?
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