The morning Julia left, Marley cut her ankle shaving. Just a silly slip; it didn’t hurt a bit, at first. More like a graze, along the ridge of the bone. Drying off, the blood streaked the towel and wouldn’t stop, flowering through bandaid after bandaid. The pain seemed out of all proportion. That’s gotta sting, remarked her sister, idly. It’s not so bad, she answered, and in time, it was not. A beaded scab and then a scar, not much bigger than the fake diamond on her commitment ring. It just ached a little when she rubbed at it, was all.