Until The Last Day
“Why not? This belongs to you.”
She clenched her hands into fists. “This…this dead place? It isn’t mine,” she said.
“Yes,” he responded, lowering his voice further. “It represents every promise you buried, every word you swallowed down, every forced smile when you didn’t want to smile…a garden filled with everything you gave without receiving anything in return.”
The wind swept through the field, making the petals rattle like bones.
Her chest tightened with pain. “No…”
"Yes," the voice insisted, blending tones from both Vincent and her father. "And the only way for it to bloom…" He raised his hand, revealing a single black seed that pulsed in his palm. “…is through betrayal."