“I could never travel anywhere by myself,” she said. “I’m not brave.” “Neither am I!” She looked at me, staring so searchingly that I looked away. “Lenni,” she said softly, “you’re the bravest person I know.” “Why?” “You just are,” she said, and the moment fell between us. “Dying isn’t brave,” I said, “it’s accidental. I’m not brave, I’m just not dead yet.”
