Ronan

Rosa dying was pretty much a given.

It was always going to happen-but the how had always been uncertain.

Would her ex-lover decide she'd lived long enough, ending her life because she knew too much?

Would said ex-lover's enemies come for her throat, realising she could be used as bait?

Or would she accidentally kill herself, slipping on beer she'd failed to clean up?

Rosa didn't care much for the how-but Gods, what she'd give to know the when.