She smells like her, her blood sings like hers; he should have know, really, who she was, how she was, but all he can think of now is that night, when she hovered uncertainly on the threshold while her sister tried to explain his presence to their mother. And when he falls, all he can see is her sister's face -- then, now -- when they'd sworn their oaths to one another.

"'Til the end of the world," he'd said, "Even if it happens to be tonight."