“I felt sort of sad that I couldn’t remember the last time, before tonight, that I’d paid such close attention to the sky. It felt like that must be some kind of sign that I’d lost my innocence and grown up without even realizing it.”

“My head was spinning. I felt like I’d been drifting, lost at sea all my life, and now that I’d found dry land, I couldn’t quite get my bearings.”

“I didn’t have to look at him to know I’d just lost everything I’d ever wanted because I felt it. I felt the loss seep into bone and tissue. I felt it settle between the cracks in my heart and the empty holes in my soul.”

“I’d never actually talked to a deaf person before but I’d been swimming and gotten water stuck in my ears lots of times, felt that underwater silence as I shook my head and watched people’s mouths moving without hearing the words, so I knew what it was like for her. I could empathize.”

“I can’t let you die!” I sobbed. “It’ll be like I’m dead anyways without you. Since I left, that’s what it’s felt like—like some part of me died because I couldn’t be with you, couldn’t see you. I’d rather die knowing it was for your freedom.”

“I felt my muscles tensing as my body readied itself to flight—not fight—from whatever critter was about to spring free from beneath the branches and attack. I’d long since realized I was the type who’d always run. I’d grown up having a mother who’d continuously informed me there was no shame in living to flee another day.”