You snatch up the piece of glass, with the eyes of the still-conscious family still tracking your every move, pleading. It's just too much.

	Plunging the shard deep into your chest, you send a jet of blood up into the air. Amazed by the amount of blood that comes from a broken human heart, you collapse to the ground, the world and your guilt disappearing at the same time.



	Three days later your body is dumped into a small cemetery to the north of the village you were born in. Dimitri and the two gravediggers were the only two attendees. This was the price you paid for devoting yourself to nothing but your work, for not letting anything into the organ you lost long before you stabbed it with that shard of glass.