It wasn't friendship.
It went far beyond that.
It wasn't romance.
Love, yes, but not romance.
It was...hard to describe.
More than anything we needed each other. Magda was my life raft, I was hers.
Why didn't I save her?
She would have saved me.
In that place we were all that we had. Some people called us abominations, some called us far worse. But their insults bounced off of me and off of her because I had her and she had me.
Best friend, sister, lover, saviour
All that she was to me.
It went far beyond anything else. We needed each other. We were one person with two bodies. One mind with two mouths.
There was blood and smoke and confusion. She turned to me to help and then...
It was so quick. A sabre to the throat, like she was no-one special, like she wasn't my other half, like she wasn't Magda.
Magda, I love you, I'm coming.
"Tilda!! Oh gods Tilda! Mal, help me!"
"The blood...I'm sorry Polly I...I can't help"
"Tilda stay with me...Tilda! don't die. Gods...Lofty! Betty! Please I need..."
All fades into darkness, all except the face I must see...