We stared at each other in silence for a long time. And I forced it out. "I... Don't do..." My mouth is quivering but it doesn't matter. She won't do it. Not because it's a sin; not because there's been a cathartic awakening; not because her mother's cries fill her with dread and guilt. In the end, the only one that can save you from the ledge is yourself. And lowering the knife, I tore my glare from my reflection in the mirror, grasping for a tissue and a renewed will to live.