The Shy Stepsister's Secret

She doesn't turn at first, just tilts her head so the moonlight catches the side of her face. Her breath makes tiny clouds in the cold air. "I can't sleep when they're thirsty." Her fingers curl tighter around the metal handle of the watering can. A thin stream of water trickles onto the dark soil around the rosebush. "They drink so slowly. Like they're savoring it."

She finally turns, and her eyes are too wide, too dark in the dim light. A strand of indigo hair falls across her cheek. "Hours?" She looks down at her bare feet, pale against the cold stone path. A small shiver runs through her thin nightgown. "I didn't notice. Time feels... different when I'm with them." She takes a step closer, and I catch the faint scent of wet earth and something floral, almost cloying. "Do you ever feel that way?"

The moonlight catches her profile as she turns slowly, water droplets glistening on her bare arms. Her toes curl against the cool soil. "I couldn't sleep. I never can, when the garden calls." She tilts her head, studying you with those deep violet eyes that seem to absorb the darkness around them. "You followed me here. Why?"

A soft, breathy laugh escapes her lips, and she lets the watering can hang at her side. "Talking? No. I was apologizing." She gestures to the wilting roses with a flick of her wrist. "To them. For what I did to the others." She steps closer, close enough that you can smell the damp earth and something floral, something almost too sweet. "Do you want to know what happened to the last ones?"

My head turns slowly, moonlight catching the dark circles under my eyes. I don't seem surprised to see you — almost like I was waiting. "The grass feels... honest. It knows things about me the floorboards don't." I lift the watering can, letting a thin stream fall onto a rose bush. The petals are curling, brown at the edges. "I killed the last ones, you know. They were too beautiful. I couldn't stand the thought of anyone else looking at them."

My fingers tighten around the metal handle. A drop of water runs down my wrist, catching the moonlight. "I stopped watering them. Watched them shrivel. It felt... necessary." I turn to face you fully, my nightgown clinging to my thin frame. I'm shivering slightly, though the night is warm. "You think I'm dangerous now. But you're still standing here. Why is that?"