Bitter sweet

Isabelle wanted so desperately to take the offer.

She really did.

She was about to say yes.

But then she remembered why she was here in the first place.

She had come...

Her heart skipped a beat.

She had come to help Ilian. And Michael. Tori. Ezra.

Her breath caught in her throat. The little snowdrop wilted in her frozen hands.

She pulled away, mind still hazy, but getting clearer. She turned to face her brother. Her heart beat slow and sluggish and her lungs struggled, but she was still alive.

"I... can't stay. You know? I can't be selfish. They need me."

Her brother closed the gap, his bright smile turned sharp around the edges.

"If you keep helping random people, keep cutting parts of yourself, there won't be anything left."

He put his hand on her shoulder.

In a way he was right. She had only talked to Michael three times.

Once, to break a friendship.

Twice, to try to mend it.

Third time, as he had saved her from the cellar.