“Dear Diary,All that she left inside the box was a blank book and a name. You are the book, and I am the name...An-Ya. As you know, my name is printed on your first page. Did She write it? What did She look like as She stood over you with Her pen? Were there tears in Her eyes? Why were you left empty inside?”

“She stood, in a room of crumbling plaster, pressed to the window-pane, looking up at the unattainable form of everything she loved. She did not know the nature of her loneliness. The only words that named it were: This is not the world I expected.”

“„Ma'am?“She glanced up at me, pushing her glasses up her nose as she did. “Hmm? Oh, I remember you. Miss Melbourne.““Melrose,“ I corrected.“Are you sure? I could've sworn you were named after someplace in Australia.“„Well, my first name is Sydney,“ I said, not sure if I should be encouraging her.”

“She did not know the nature of her loneliness. The only words that named it were: This is not the world I expected.”

“For the first time, she did want more. She did not know what she wanted, knew that it was dangerous and that she should rest content with what she had, but she knew an emptiness deep inside her, which began to ache.”

“what's your name?"what?" i asked, squinting at the light.your name." I reconized Dr. Olendzki peering over me.you know my name."I want you to tell me."Rose. Rose Hathaway."Do you know your birthday?"Of course I do. Why are you asking me such stupid things? Did you lose my records?"Dr. Olendzki gave an exasperated sigh and walked off, taking the annoying light with her. "I think she's fine,”