Three Wishes

by Liane Moriarty

Don’t look at me so seriously. Don’t look at me as if I’m having an impact on you. I don’t have real relationships. I don’t have a real job. I don’t have a real home. The only part that’s real about me is my sisters. And if I’m not really real, then I can’t really hurt you.

The only thing to do was to wait it out, to fold herself up inside, to pretend she was somewhere else. It was like ducking under a big wave when the surf was especially rough. You took a deep gulp and closed your eyes and dropped as far as you could beneath that raging wall of white water. While you were under it pushed you and shoved you as if it wanted to kill you. But it always passed. And when you broke the surface, gasping for air, sometimes it was so calmly-lapping-gentle you could hardly believe the wave ever existed in the first place.