I moved into the neighboring Pixie house when I was eleven. Our windows faced each other. She blew soap bubbles into me. And I shot at her with a toy pistol. Each of us kept our own terrible secrets. I would have preferred the suffering to be only mine. But fate decided otherwise. After a long separation, we met again. And it wasn’t that same Pixie I knew. In front of me was a girl with a wounded soul who needed me. I was afraid of the dark, and he lit up my window to drive away my fear. We shared ice cream, and I taught him how to ride the swings properly. I couldn’t have imagined that one day I’d have to decide who gets to live and who doesn’t. I chose him because I always protected him. And I condemned myself to long years of painful loneliness. When Geiz appeared in my life again—this beautiful grown man living happily—I realized how much I wanted to share that happiness with him.