Anakin must make a choice between the light and the dark.
"Search your feelings," he said. "You know it to be true."
He turned away from the window overlooking the streets of Coruscant and met my eyes. I had spent many hours in this office, talking to this great man. He had accepted me as an equal, something I craved.
I flinched away from his words, unable to help myself. The pain that flared to life upon hearing them rivaled the agony of losing my hand. How much more does it hurt to have your heart ripped out than to have a limb sliced from your body?
"No." The word was dragged from me. "I don't believe you." But I did believe. His words confirmed every doubt I had ever harbored about my unworthiness.
"Of course you believe me, Anakin," he said smoothly. "You recognize the truth."
"She wouldn't do that!" I shouted the words. Perhaps the volume of my answer could drown out the mocking laughter that echoed in my head. I turned away from him, unable to bear the sight of his disappointment in me.
"Oh, Anakin, don't do this to yourself," he said, his regret clear. There was a false note to it that rattled, but I deliberately ignored the discordance.