Presently, Leah took a deep breath as she passed by the solemn edifice of that very cathedral. Its windows were boarded up, and through a gap in the planks, she saw that several of its stained-glass panes were shattered.
The loss of everything that night had, in a strange way, made the death of her family seem wholly unreal. There had been no goodbyes. No funerals. A part of her still thought it hadn't really happened-as if she'd simply been gone on a long trip away from home, and her mother, father, and brothers were alive and well and waiting for her to return.
But, looking around, she realized not even the city had survived her absence. And maybe neither had she. Not entirely.
Hook touched her shoulder to get her attention and signed, "They carry halberds."