she remembers , later , malcolm , just a couple years younger than she , asleep on a mound of blankets in the corner , uncle jackson 's snoring from the other side of the room , the light from the remaining embers of the fire casting a pale glow through the cabin-and her turning the blade over and over in her hands , her eyes closed , feeling the weight of it and the balance , getting to know it , putting it against the skin of her face and her lips .