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She couldn’t fix herself anymore, and no one else seemed inclined to even notice she was breaking.
“You’re like a rose in a graveyard,” he said, and his lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I wonder what you could have turned into without the war.”
“You made me feel like the parts of me that aren’t useful still deserve to exist. Like I’m not just all the things I can do.”
They were the inverse and counter to each other. A healer and killer, circling slowly, the push and pull inexorable.
