I watch her blond head until it disappears around the bend, and I feel bare, like there's nothing left to protect me against pain. Her absence stings worst of all.

We both have war inside us. Sometimes it keeps us alive. Sometimes it threatens to destroy us.

When her body first hit the net, all I registered was a gray blur. I pulled her across it and her hand was small, but warm, and then she stood before me, short and thin and plain and in all ways unremarkable- except that she had jumped first. The stiff had jumped first. Even I didn't jump first. Her eyes were so stern, so insistent. Beautiful.

My name will be Edith Proir," she says. "And there is much I am happy to forget.

Like a wild animal, the truth is too powerful to remain caged.

The Candor sing the praises of the truth, but they never tell you how much it costs.

Grief is not as heavy as guilt, but it takes more away from you.