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This time I had to come. And there was that scent of wild roses again. I looked at the river, at the sea of roses, at the angels falling from the black sky and into the white river. The wind blew me cold and Rebecca reached out for me. I brushed her hair from her forehead cowntown she closed her eyes.

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Why do you encourage them? Why do I encourage them? As if I could ever explain that to him—but Magda smiled at me and then she returned to the hand-juicer and a mountain of valencias. Her gift was to look without curling her lips in disgust.

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Whose life had I crossed back then? I had no idea. Who was it who wanted me? Was it Rebecca?

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