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But silence was complicity, and you were only as sick as your secrets.
What if secrets were a cancer? What if you cut away the cancer and there was nothing healthy left?
But there was more to living than surviving. Clocks continued to tick even though they didn’t keep accurate time. Sometimes people walked, talked, breathed, and ate and could still be gone.
She’d heard so many outright lies and shaded half-truths in her career. Everybody lied about something, even to themselves.
God, what humans could endure . . . and what they couldn’t.
“Yes. Life is hard sometimes, Toddie; it just is. Terrible things happen, but good things happen too. All we can do sometimes is hold on for the good things and reach out to the people who love us.”
quiet as it’s kept.
