Tirza finds herself mourning for this sister, a viper like them. How can it be possible to care for someone she had never met? And she wonders if she could have raised her, could have saved her by stealing the life from someone else and giving it to that sister. Then they could have been a trio - the snake, the viper, and the ghost. She and Gravy could have raised her if only they had a chance.
Tirza does not understand why she aches for that lost opportunity. The baby had been a viper, maybe, but dead before she could even use her fangs.
When Gospel continues, when she uses the same manner to speak of Tirza and her twin as she had the ghost-daughter, the star-pointed mare curls a lip back over her fangs in annoyance. That feigned coolness breaks when she snaps out her next words. “Why do you talk in the past tense? We’re not dead, Gravy and I.” They never would die, if Tirza had anything to do with it. They were still so young but she would give herself and her brother as many years as they pleased.
They still had time, plenty of it, to be whatever they wished to be.
“Or have you convinced yourself that we’re ghosts too?”
@[gospel]