Later, I will watch Max teach our children how to pull weeds and water roses. I’ll pause my pen over my paper to marvel at the sheer overwhelming abundance of luck that needed to happen to bring us to this moment. I do not believe in gods anymore. But maybe there’s something like a miracle, here. I think of my mother’s words in a dream that felt very real. You have survived, my daughter. Now live. This memory crosses my mind just as Max looks up and smiles when he meets my eyes, as if on reflex, like he didn’t even mean to, and I return it without thinking. I put down my pen, and I live. the
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