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Reminders of others existed in the most mundane and ubiquitous of things.
There was no starting over for most people. That was a misconception. Unless a person’s memory could be erased, there were no fresh starts, only progression.
Even if you burned down a house where bad things had happened, the house would still be there in your mind, regardless.
children made their own reality. That’s how they got through the darkness.
Sunlight illuminated distant peaks surrounded by dark mountains and ghostly mountains and mountains that appeared and disappeared, seeming almost from another time and place.
Moody, changing moment to moment, finally fading and vanishing as if never having been there at all.
An idea, a notion, love, hate, formed in childhood, was hard to redirect because it was so ingrained and so accepted as normal.
Sometimes facing the thing you fear can render it powerless.
Maybe she could do so again. Maybe discovering the truth about her mother would set to rest those strange and nagging feelings that could hover in the background and foreground of life. The sense that something didn’t fit. Daniel had experienced enough of them to understand their gossamer quality. Maybe those would stop for her. Maybe the unease that could descend on a person in the middle of the night would visit less frequently, or not at all.
