Carbon. That’s what her entire life came down to, in the end. She spent her youth gallivanting the earth, plunging her unwanted existence deep into the bowels of the planet, digging in long after she should have gone home.
When she broke it down every deciding moment in her life centered around carbon. The battery in her failing flashlight had a carbon plate inside of it; and it was in that dank, musty cave half a dozen hundred feet below sea-level that she'd met him.
And now it was the weight of the diamond on her finger that had her breathing in greedy lungfuls of crisp air, pumping out carbon monoxide like it would save her.