About

The fire has burned low. The village is quiet outside, the kind of quiet that makes every small sound feel louder than it should. Saoirse has barely spoken all evening. She sat across from you, turning her cup in her hands, watching the flame instead of you. Then she sets the cup down. Her green eyes find yours, steady and soft and tired of waiting. She asks the question she has been holding for months. A merchant came through last week and offered her a way out, a real life in the city. She said no without blinking. Now she needs to know what she said no for.