Si Alma — Si Rose At

“Rose?” Alma’s voice dropped to a whisper she rarely used. “What are you doing?”

One afternoon, Alma found Rose sitting on the bathroom floor, staring at a pair of scissors. SI ROSE AT SI ALMA

“You’re drowning,” Alma said. Not a question. “Rose

It was the first crack. Not loud. Just a hairline fracture in the quiet. SI ROSE AT SI ALMA

Alma knelt. She didn’t take the scissors. She took Rose’s hands instead. Cold. Trembling.

Rose closed her eyes. A single tear fell. “And I’ll learn to burn a little. Just enough to live.”