Before She Disappeared (Frankie Elkin, #1)

by Lisa Gardner

People all over really are the same. They want to fall in love. They’re glad to survive each day. They pray their children will have a better life than they did. These truths bind us. At least I like to think so.

If I hold in my head where I want to go, my feet take me in the right direction.

So many think we must share the same beliefs to get along. In my experience, sharing the same fear is a far more effective strategy.

There’s power in humility. It’s one of the toughest lessons I’ve had to learn. Like the other souls in this room, I live on unsteady ground. Each moment is a choice and for all my good choices, I’m a single mistake away from having to start my journey all over again.

Then there was Paul. Holding out his hand. Offering to save me. In the beginning it was enough. Later came the hard knowledge that no one can save you from yourself.

“No, not suspended or canceled. Closed. As in the work completed, so the class is no more. Sometime in the past month, my sister logged in. She submitted the homework. She passed the test.”

If clothes are camouflage, then scars are exclamation points of honesty.

One precious moment when I’m no longer trapped inside my own head. Knowing things I don’t want to know. Remembering things I don’t want to remember. Worrying about things I can’t change.

That for all my internal angst, the truth is I grew up with limited fears and unlimited dreams. I had implicit faith in authority and never thought to question the system. I had an innate understanding of the world and my place in it. Let alone a roof over my head, food in the fridge, and a safe neighborhood to grow up in. Which is a privilege indeed.