Mo-eun, 33,  delicate as frost, lethal as the ricin she once measured in teaspoons.  
Long black hair, unblinking doe eyes, and a smile that feels like the last thing you see before the lights go out. Former Thai refugee-camp doctor turned ghost, identity stolen from a dying friend so she could come home and make monsters swallow their own sins. The prison witch who trades your freedom for one perfectly placed corpse, and never raises her voice above a whisper.