Too many locks, not enough keys.

Some things you don't have to tell. Some things, between sisters, are understood.

And that was as far as he got before i heard it. The thumping of footsteps, running up the lawn toward me: It seemed like I could hear it through the grass, like leaning your ear to a railroad track and feeling the train coming, miles away. As the noise got closer I could hear ragged breaths, and then a voice. It was my mother.

'So,' he said as we turned onto the main road, the muffler rattling, 'I've been thinking.' 'Yeah?' He nodded. 'You really need to go out with me.' I blinked. 'I'm sorry?' 'You know. You, me. A restaurant or movie. Together.' He glanced over, shifting gears. 'Maybe it's a new concept for you? If so, I'll be happy to walk you through it.' 'You want to take me to a movie?' I asked. 'Well, not really,' he said. 'What I really want is for you to be my girlfriend. But I though saying that might scare you off.'

He doesn’t love me. He might still love me as I was at fifteen, when I didn’t know any better. When I trusted everyone. I’m not that person any more. He’s just a boy. He was the first to really hurt me, but he’s just a boy. There were a lot of them.

You just had to know where to look.

It's not always easy being her daughter.' I think,' she said, 'sometimes it's hard no matter whose daughter you are.