Sheriff Cole couldn't answer, he still grappled with the fear that almost snared him outside and which now refused to let him look at the girl's face.
If you see her, you'll see her dead, you'll have to tell the old woman, the kid sleeping on the floor. Tell the town. The very act of looking will kill her.
Ridiculous, he knew, but it overpowered him, this - this what? Blame, perhaps?
And if she's not dead... how can he tell anyone she'll likely be some sort of -
no, he dare not look.
It would make it all too real.