I’ve spent years trying to ignore the way my body reacts to Ruthie, but I haven’t succeeded. I’ve memorized this maddening woman in bits and pieces, a flash of flesh here, a brush of the hand, a scent captured and remembered. All those stolen pieces are coming together now, forming a map that’s still incomplete. I want to complete it—to be an explorer and to form a map so thorough future generations will marvel at my genius, but no one will be allowed to see that map except for me.
