The rain fell in endless sheets against the glass.
Elva Snow watched it in silence, her voice low when she finally spoke.
“I wonder when it will end.”
“Why?” The question came from behind, deep and unhurried.
She turned, meeting the man’s gaze. “Why do you think?”
He chuckled softly at her coldness, but his eyes did not waver. Dark, steady, like an abyss staring back at her.
“I suppose it isn’t easy to understand my Elva,” he said with a faint smile.
Elva gave no answer. Instead, she turned back to the window.
Only when he thought she had finished did her voice return, quiet but sharp as a blade.
“If it doesn’t stop, the city will sink.”
Her eyes, empty and distant, stayed on the storm.
“Sinking in water,” she whispered, “is the same as death.”
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