She ate the water hemlock because she knew it was poisonous. The white blossoms were tasteless, but the leaves tasted green, like a stalk of celery. The first cramp was brutal, and that was it. She died there on the trail, just where it got muddy as it skirted around the marsh. Her spirit drifted right up from the spot where she fell. Her body had landed in an awkward position, partway into the tall grass. So much for a graceful departure. Her body looked wretched. She didn’t remember any of the thrashing and pain that showed on her gaping mouth and twisted l[...]