Do you know what my father used to say?" I ask her. "He used to say that songs had a heart. A crescendo that can make all your blood rush from your head to your toes.

I shake my head, watching snow tumble and swirl from an all-white sky. The world seems so clean if you only look up

My sisters were in that van.

I can almost see what Gabriel meant when he asked, 'What has the free world got that you can’t get here?' Almost. Freedom, Gabriel. That’s what you can’t get here.

Maybe it is desperation. Maybe we can't let things fall apart without trying. We can't let go of the people we love.

There’s a limit to how much living can be done in a life without freedom.

Ah, love. That’s what the world has lost. There’s no more love, only the illusion of it.