“Valerie wouldn’t have guessed that the child had it in her, to enter so completely into a life other than her own.”
“The dad scrolled through his daughter’s Instagram account, looking for clues.”
“They’d been friends once, before they’d got into designing memorials for unspeakable catastrophes.”
“Eight months later I died in a moped accident in Portugal. One week later I was resurrected in Stockholm.”
“What if this is the last day that she recalls anything? What if she never recognizes anyone again?”
“It couldn’t last, this secret life, this music in plain sight.”
“It happened in an apartment, on an old couch. I wasn’t directed so much as given a series of props to make my way through, like an obstacle course.”
“They’d been left alone on the island, the two little girls. Four and seven.”
“I knew I was acting badly, that I was looking too brazenly and too long, that I shouldn’t have looked at all.”
“Certain days it’s the left wrist. Upper arms at home in the evening. Thighs and shins most likely at night. ”