“The ball in the box,” Kinsey said. Rosalie twisted slightly in her arms to look at her. “The grief theory,” she said, “with the pain button and the ball that keeps getting smaller?” “But when it hits the pain button it still hurts just as much.” Rosalie’s green eyes shone like seafoam in the light reflecting off the snow outdoors, as if crying had changed the color. “You lost someone too.”
