Little by little, Elizabeth started to heal. She felt “the curtains raising.” She compared the feeling to looking for a valuable antique in a dark attic filled with junk—she knew that it was in there somewhere but couldn’t see it because of all the clutter. When she finally did spot it, she couldn’t get to it because it was “buried under a pile of useless garbage.” But now and then she could see a clear path to the object, as if a flash of lightning had illuminated the room for a brief instant.
