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“Come on." I took his hand and stood, pulling him up with me. "Let's go home. Aren't you tired of being in this house?" meant the words lightly, but he looked around the sunlit ruins with solemn eyes. "It's strange," he said softly. "I think I'll miss it." And I realized that in every life he had lived, this was his only home and he had never left. "I miss hating my sister," I said, pulling him toward the gateway. "She's a little bit more wicked now, so I can't even hate her for being too kind." But when we were almost at the threshold, he paused again, and this time there was naked fear on his face. "You do realize," he said. "I don't remember how to be anything but a demon lord and his shadow." "I'm still not very good at being anything but a wicked sister." I took his other hand. A handful of kindness, the sparrow had said, and now we each had two. "We'll both be foolish," I said, "and vicious and cruel. We will never be safe with each other." "Don't try too hard to be cheerful." His fingers threaded through mine. "But we'll pretend we know how to love." I smiled at him. "And someday we'll learn." And we walked out through the gateway together.” — Rosamund Hodge