Take a rose.
Drop it into the river. Did it sink? No? How unexpected.
Now take another and feed it to the flames. Watch what happens. The petals curl, blacken, and fall away one by one. Did you hear that? That little sound she made?
You thought it was the fire, didn't you?
Perhaps it was. Or perhaps it was her.
Two roses. Two sisters. One carried away by the current, the other swallowed by the flames. Both beautiful. Both doomed. Yet somehow, only one was given the chance to drift a little longer.
But how long can a rose float before the water finally claims it? How long can something so delicate survive when the current has already decided where it belongs?
And the one burning? Did she deserve the fire, or was she simply the one you chose to sacrifice?
Funny thing about fate. It rarely tells us why it chooses. It simply points, and we obey.
So tell me, why her?
You don't know, do you?
Neither does she.
Perhaps that's the cruelest part of it all. Not knowing whether you were chosen by fate... or merely abandoned by it.
✦