His Choice Wasn't Me
The rain grew heavier, soaking the ribbons and petals scattered on the grass.
Sarah stayed where she was, her gaze fixed on the fresh mound of earth that now covered the woman who had saved her from the ashes of her old life.
Ella shifted uneasily beside her. “We should go now, ma. It’s getting cold.”
Sarah didn’t move. Her voice came low, steady. “She used to say the sky never cries; it only reminds us that we still can.”
Ella looked at her quietly, unsure what to say.
Finally, Sarah lifted her head. Her eyes caught the sky — gray, heavy, endless, stretching above the city that now rested at her feet.