She watched as the young girl's chest rose and fell, the sound sharp and quick. The girl was close, close to the end. Enola didn't know the girl's name, her family, friends, home, or school. And yet she was the only one present in the girl's demise. Her mother was gone at impact, Rorreta had snapped the string as quick as possible. She didn't seem to care anymore. She had snipped too many people already.
"Hurry."
Enola pushed the girl's hair out of her face, bringing her own cold lips to the girl's forehead, in her arms the little girl grew limp. Enola was used to this, in fact it was all she ever saw, and the only time she was ever seen. In front of the car now stood the young girl, her face bright and unmarked, her hair straight and free of knots. Enola reached out her hand, which the girl quickly took.
"It's all over, love. Now you may rest."
