[ In the end, Harold doesn't ask the obvious questions. Doesn't pounce on the throat that Carver's just bared and try to take advantage. He just examines the photograph and then he hands it back with a quiet sort of care.
Carver tucks the polaroid away. He shouldn't carry something so delicate in his jacket, he knows, but he's afraid to lose it if he doesn't. ]
I light candles, [ Carver explains, a little distantly. ] I cut their names into trees and walls, and I leave offerings for their souls.
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Carver tucks the polaroid away. He shouldn't carry something so delicate in his jacket, he knows, but he's afraid to lose it if he doesn't. ]
I light candles, [ Carver explains, a little distantly. ] I cut their names into trees and walls, and I leave offerings for their souls.