Language in the Blood Page 15
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I found her that evening, lying in the bath tub. She had cut deep into her arms with a razor and the water was red with her blood. She was already dead and there was nothing I could do. There was no more I wanted to do... I had drained her of life after all.
I could have brought her back – we could have been together for all eternity – but denying Hélène her treasured light would have been a fate so much worse than death for her. I took the portrait she had painted of me and left.