Chapter 6: The Seeds of Longing

Blood soaked my dress, stinging Ethan’s eyes.

He staggered, then lifted me up, voice trembling: “Lila, what’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? I wanted to laugh.

I smiled at him, tears and blood running together: “Ethan, I’m dying.”

I’m dying, taking our child with me.

The metallic taste I’d swallowed that day now poured out, staining the winter snow red.

In a daze, I saw the young Ethan.

The young soldier rode up, holding me, reciting:

“Red beans grow in the southern land, how many sprout in spring? I urge you to gather more, for they are the seeds of longing.”

I didn’t understand longing when I was young.

Now I know red beans are also called ‘seeds of longing.’

So, Ethan, this is where our story ends.

The snow outside fell quietly, blanketing the city in a hush that felt both peaceful and final. Somewhere, church bells tolled for the dead. The world kept turning, indifferent to the tragedies inside these walls. I closed my eyes. I remembered the warmth of a spring long gone. I let the darkness take me, carrying with it every word we never said.