“In your heart. Just like you are probably inside hers. She’s there, isn’t she? You feel her there, yes? It’s why you whisper to her at night in your bed. Because she’s right there inside you.” Amaryllis blinks slowly as she considers this, and then she nods. I can see in her eyes that this is not the same as seeing Rosie’s face, hearing her voice, holding her hand. But I know too well this is the way, the only way, to keep close to you someone who is gone from your life. It is better than the alternative—isn’t it?—which is never having had them at all.
