Her tears frightened her. She had not cried this hard for her parents, and the moment that thought came to her mind, she immediately told herself this was some displaced, delayed reaction, the shock of the attack on her tree simply a door for the grief for her parents. She knew there was some truth in that, simple and obvious as the psychology was, but there was more than that. She knew there was more, but, and this was what frightened her about her tears, about the crying that had come after so many years, from a time long before her parents had been taken so quickly from her, from a time when she was not aware that these kinds of feelings could exist, her tears frightened her because she heard voices somewhere inside her describing the grief she was feeling. Voices inside her, not speaking, not words spoken with clarity