She had reached for his shares and almost killed him reaching.
What struck me, listening to it come out of her, was how badly she had misjudged the thing she was playing with — and that misjudgment told me everything about the difference between her and me.
Carys had treated the human body as if it were a lock she could pick, a system she could nudge a few degrees off true and then nudge back.
She had no idea what she was actually doing, because she had never spent a night watching what happens when a body’s careful chemistry is pushed past the edge.
I have spent hundreds of those nights.
I know exactly how narrow the margin is between a person who is merely impaired and a person who is dying, how a small miscalculation in that territory is not a small miscalculation at all but the difference between a living man and a corpse.