No One Could Suspect The Intricate Mysteries

You Can't Stop Time. You Can't Capture Light. You Can Only Turn Your Face Up And Let It Rain Down.

He Had Handed His Daughter To Caroline Gill And That Act Had Led Him Here, Years Later, To This Girl In Motion Of Her Own, This Girl Who Had Decided Yes, A Brief Moment Of Release In The Back Of A Car, In The Room Of A Silent House, This Girl Who Had Stood Up Later, Adjusting Her Clothes, With Now Knowledge Of How That Moment Was Already Shaping Her Life.

I Think That The Whole Child Welfare System Has To Be Totally Taken Apart And Built Up Again. Have An Agency Just Specifically For Those Follow-up Cases.

Grief, It Seemed, Was A Physical Place.

Writing Is Always A Process Of Discovery—i Never Know The End, Or Even The Events On The Next Page, Until They Happen. There’s A Constant Interplay Between The Imagining And Shaping Of The Story.