Be Brave, Beatrice. I Love You.

Hearing Him Talk About His Mother, About His Intact Family, Makes My Chest Hurt For A Second, Like Someone Pierced It With A Needle.

We Are Not The Same. But We Are, Somehow, One.

My Name Will Be Edith Proir," She Says. "and There Is Much I Am Happy To Forget.

For Me, It Feels Like Driving From Truth Into A Lie, From Adulthood To Childhoold. I Watch The Land Of Pavement And Glass And Metal Turn Into An Empty Field. The Snow Is Falling Softly Now, And I Can Faintly See The City's Skyline Up Ahead, The Buildings Just A Shade Darker Than The Clouds.

Uriah Drops His Tray Next To Me. It Is Loaded With Beef Stew And Chocolate Cake. I Stare At The Cake Pile. “there Was Cake?” I Say, Looking At My Own Plate, Which Is More Sensibly Stocked Than Uriah’s. “yeah, Someone Just Brought It Out. Found A Couple Boxes Of The Mix In The Back And Baked It,” He Says. “you Can Have A Few Bites Of Mine.” “a Few Bites? So You’re Planning On Eating That Mountain Of Cake By Yourself?” “yes.” He Looks Confused. “why?” “never Mind.