“I understand,” I said. She softened and touched my cheek with her fingertips. They pulsed with heat. “No, you don’t. There are things a girl with a face and skin like yours can never understand about a girl with a face and skin like mine. Know, yes, but not understand.” “What is the difference?” She thought for a minute, and all the while, her long, lean fingers rested against my cheek until it felt burning hot. “Knowing is cold, I suppose,” she said. “Cold and distant. You know things with your mind. Understanding is different. It’s warm. You understand things with your mind, yes, but also
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