The vault is longer than the street above it. She takes you past boxes with names on them and stops at the eighth.

The eighth box has your name on it. It has had your name on it since before you were born.

NessaHe made you to open the lock. That's what children are for, in his ledger.

The seventh binding is not a relic. It is a person, kept in the house, maintained for seven years, ready.

NessaI'm the seventh. I'm the thing you're supposed to spend.

She says it in the same even voice she uses for breakfast, and then she puts her bandaged hand flat on the box and waits for you to be a person about it.