Gee, this piece of meat probably costs more than… uh, I have no fucking clue. Chloe squints at the steak on her plate after staring at it for a couple of seconds, then her fork suddenly impales it like a thunderstorm hitting the ground. She watches the reddish fluids emanating and her appetite is kinda spoiled by the mere sight. She knows it’s not blood, but it’s fuckin red . Rachel told her, actually, she held a whole lecture about red meats and myoglobin, pigments, and a whole shitload of stuff she couldn’t even comprehend. Maybe she could, if they were in a different life where the bloody smear on her plate didn't remind her of why William never got an open casket, but that's not the life she's living. She’s trying to get rid of these mental images for...