when you love someone you’ll do just about anything to keep them.

That, my dear, is what makes a character interesting, their secrets.

But everyone's an expert with the virtue of hindsight . . . .

I sound contemptuous, but I am not. I am interested--intrigued even--by the way time erases real lives, leaving only vague imprints. Blood and spirit fade away so that only names and dates remain.

In real life turning points are sneaky. They pass by unlabeled and unheeded. Opportunities are missed, catastrophes unwittingly celebrated. Turning points are only uncovered later, by historians who seek to bring order to a lifetime of tangled moments.

The stretch of years leaves none unmarked: the blissful sense of youthful invincibility peels away and responsibility brings its weight to bear.

She was the sort of person for whom fear was the natural response to that beyond explanation.