"I can't," Pearl screeches back, voice strained with panic, fingers raking down the sides of her face. "Look at him," she says, "he's scared," if this woman's reasoning would be any different.

She could kill him. In her rational mind, Pearl knows that as soon she holds the live animal between her hands, with its pulse beating beneath her palms, every drop of empathy and morality would leave her in an instant and only return once its body is lifeless and cold.

The thought leaves her numb with fear.

"Please," she whispers, nails digging into her cheeks. "I've never had to kill before."