"What have you done?" I asked, looking around absently. The answer was apparent all round us.
The feather-light ashes of thousands of books covered our feet like fresh snow.
The charred remains of small children were scattered about the ruins; burnt black on the outside, still pink on the inside.
This time I shouted at the top of my lungs, but she still didn't react. "WHAT DID YOU DO??"
Her voice remained calm. "This place, these kids, these books, they're all you ever cared about."
"This was your world. Well I took that away from you. I walked right in here among all these little smiling faces that you love so much more than me, and I destroyed your world. Now you have to face me. After seven years of marriage, and after you dragging us out here in the middle of nowhere, you finally have to face me."