Chapter Text
Jane looked critically in the glass. The scar was not likely to heal much neater now; the redness might fade to silver, given more time, but the puckered skin from eyelid to neck would never smooth out.
She raised an eyebrow, and scowled reflexively at the way it accentuated the fresh asymmetry of her features.
Oh well. She had never set herself up to be a looker, she supposed, and perhaps an additional touch of fearsomeness would aid her command.
Emily had cried, terrified, when she’d first seen her mother’s bloodied face, and nothing could ever be worse than that.