But he was shaking his head, slow and thoughtful. “I think of your parents, sitting on the back stoop in that tiny garden, with the bushes blocking out the light. They—and you—gave me more in that minuscule plot of land than anything up there ever could. Because what people are chasing up there all amounts to one thing. It took me a decade and a half to learn this, but what they’re chasing . . . it was present right there with the crickets in that garden.” Her breath came thick, as if her lungs knew the words she meant to speak could cost her much. “What was it?” “Hope. Wonder. Light. All
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