“Until, one day, she wasn’t.”

“She realized that was one of the things she liked about Green Oaks – nobody knew her. She wasn’t the quiet girl from class. She wasn’t the girl with no mom or dad.”

“Crysta, to her credit, never complained—it wasn’t her way. Yes, she would ask and remind nicely, and persistently, until she got what she wanted. But complain? No.”

“Instead of killing herself, I wondered, could a person just shrink and crumple until she became nothing, until her traits and quirks wasted along with her body, until one day you realized that she had faded away?”

“She imagines that she is a seed, driven by the wind, that withstands cold and heat, the worst possible conditions, until one day it falls, like the Bible says, on fertile soil. She knows one day she will flower. This is inevitable. Winter always ends, and springtide blossoms in its place.”

“As she gets sicker, she fades a little more, until I am afraid one day I will wake up and not be able to see her at all.”