Her mind offers up the process, something she witnessed a few times gathered around the fire in camp, setting water to boil over a carefully banked flame.

Your existence as a predator. That's underselling it. She could lay waste to this entire dwelling easily, the fantasy unfurling in her mind easy as breathing. Drown Jean in the boiling water, use fire and lightning to burn the place down, and it would feel like contentment. But that would mean moving, and Charlie is still resting where she is. Only a fantasy.

"It'd be better for her if she stayed fearful. You're the one who cares for her, feeds her, loves her. You're safety. You'll see her grow whole and hale."