Courage bubbled up inside of me like a spring. It painted words on my tongue and gave me the push to vocalize them. Before he could step back, I said, “Miles—” Our eyes connected in the mirror. “Do you think I should be Whitney all the time? You know—like Ophelia says. Do you think it would be easier?” Without a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Easier doesn’t mean better.” “Why would Norma Jeane become Marilyn if Marilyn wasn’t better?” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he squeezed my arms again. “Maybe you should be asking what Marilyn would have given to go back to being Norma Jeane.”
