Antonia didn’t know what to say: she didn’t want to dismiss Izzy’s need for professional help. But she also didn’t want her sister to feel damaged and diminished in any way. Who can speak to this? she addressed the pack of writers in her head whose work she had studied, taught, treasured, random lines spinning daily through her thoughts. Come on, guys! One of you, step up to the plate now. “Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased? Pluck from the heart a rooted sorrow?”
