Isabella lifted them right back up, thrusting them slightly closer. "Forget the reviews. Look at them. Which one do you like?"
Elena looked. Really looked. Her mind searched for a preference, a desire, an opinion—and found a vast, echoing emptiness.
"I don't know."
The answer was immediate. Natural. Shockingly unbothered, as if living without personal desire was the most ordinary thing in the world.
Isabella studied her quietly, a shadow of profound sadness passing through her eyes. "Okay."
She placed the candles back on the shelf and immediately grabbed two notebooks. "Choose."
Elena didn't hesitate. "...The black one."
"Why?"
"It hides dirt better."
Isabella grabbed two ceramic mugs. "Choose."
"The left one."
"Why?"
"The handle design offers a more ergonomic grip."
A bookmark. "Choose."
"The cheaper one."
Again. And again. And again.
