“and what’s this part?” elizabeth asked, pointing at the swirl that dominated the picture.
“that’s the pit of death,” mad said.
elizabeth eyes widened in worry. “and this?” she pointed at a series of slanty lines. “rain?”
“tears,” mad said.
elizabeth knelt down, her eyes level with mad’s. “are you sad, honey?” mad placed her small, chalky hands on either side of her mother’s face. “no. but you are.”