She bought a fish, lively one at that, placed it on the chopping block. She lifted her knife several times, steeling herself to strike down, yet not daring to make the move. She was faced with the fish, completely at a loss, till she finally gritted her teeth and smacked hard at the fish's head. But the fish didn't die; instead, it splashed her face with its bloody red insides. Terrified, she let go of her knife, watched it drop onto her foot, and spent a good while squatting on the ground in pain. She eventually got up, washed her knife thoroughly under the tap, held it in both hands, took several deep breaths to muster her courage, then with all the strength she could muster, once again struck mercilessly at the fish's head.
And this time, the fish really died. She took a pair of scissors, made incisions, and removed everything from inside the fish's abdomen.
From behind a pane of glass, Howard Coleman carefully observed Madeleine's anxious and uneasy expression.
