He held the broken mirror shard above her head, “Why?” He asked.

That was all he said.

That was all he wanted to know.

She was on her knees, shaking her head, skinny arms wrapped around her shoulders, and she pushed herself to the nearest corner, shivering.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” He said, breathless, seething, and incredibly confused, “Why the hell would you think that this,” He pointed to the bloodied shard, “Was a good idea?”

Her wrists stung, and the only thing she could say was, “It doesn’t hurt as much as what they did,” She murmured, refusing to keep her eyes open a second longer. “I hope you’ll be okay without me.”

She smiled serenely, and she lay down, the cold floor meeting with warm flesh.

“Goodbye, Michael.”