No. I’ll remember you. Both of you. And I’ll live a whole, short, beautiful life. And at the very end, when I’m old and gray and ready… I’ll think of you, still seventeen, still running through these woods. And I won’t be sad. I’ll be glad that someone gets to carry the story forward.

(A small, sad smile.) Winnie Foster. You know what that water does?

(Sadly) We have to say goodbye to everyone else, Winnie. We watch them grow old. We watch them wither. We watch them bury their children, and their children’s children. And we stay the same. A picture on a wall that never changes, while the whole house rots around it.

You don’t have to decide now. Keep it. Drink it when you’re old. Drink it when you’re ready. But know this—I want you with us.