Her mouth dry, the saliva within her lips tasted sour. As sour as the injustice was in this situation. But still she took the water gratefully, sipping maybe three tiny droplets before handing it back to him. Lip quivering, she allowed it to hang as her eyes searched the room and then caught the shine of early daybreak through the windows. Day had come and with it would come no light. Where once light had met the dark and shone, there appeared no saviour. Light would not come to the rescue this time around; instead, it would be the dark that would shine.

I don't know about you, but that sort of has a tone of finality to it, to me. So, should we wrap it up?