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She was exhausted with a capital E.
Me everyday
The very thing that kept them together was also the thing that kept them apart.
As far as Juno was concerned, when you got married you started a new family with the person of your choosing: leave and cleave. You had to fight it out together, figure it out as a team. And when the extended family tried to get involved, as they usually did, you were to tell them to mind their stinking business.
Didn’t he know that once words were out, they stuck in people’s minds like barbs?
Nigel shouting those ugly words at her had woken her grief, and now it would follow her around like a shadow.
“No. You’re right. I don’t know what it’s like to steal someone’s infant—”
WTF
Humans had a way of uprooting happiness. They found flaws in it, picked at it until the whole system unraveled.
“There are women in these camps, very young women like you and me who are living hand to mouth, with no sanitation or access to medical help. In fact, one of the young women I work with was pregnant and living in a tent when she disappeared.”
She liked the way it felt to stick the sharp end of the safety pin past the foil and into the rubbery onionskin beneath it. She pushed the pin all the way through.
Bitchhh
Kids needed to talk; they needed to empty themselves of their experiences so they could process them properly. And, more importantly, they needed to have someone who wanted to listen and who could gently guide. That’s what Juno did. She listened.
“Unfortunately, we aren’t the only ones in control of our story arcs. Outsiders have an influence, too.” “But we let the outsiders have an influence.” “Yes and no. When you’re an adult you can control who you allow into your life, but you can’t control how they’ll behave once they’re there.” “Kids don’t get that choice.”
It was hard to learn your place in the world when so many people told you different things.
Winnie woke to the sound of sirens. Her first thought was of Samuel. Where was Samuel? He was buried in the crawl space! She bolted upright and the room righted itself, but her head didn’t. No. Samuel was alive. He wasn’t the one buried in the crawl space. He was her baby. Hers.
Wait what???
She had to find Samuel—her miracle baby, her baby—not Josalyn’s.
