us to inhabit the one already connected more honestly.
“I’ve been waiting for certainty,” I said. “Not a good time. A guarantee.”
“There isn’t one.”
“I know that now.”
“Knowing is a start.”
I looked at her.
She did not make the sentence gentler.
“Just don’t turn being careful into the next eight years.”
Elise unfolded the last section of the list. She did it slowly, smoothing the crease against her knee until the paper lay almost flat. The final entry appeared in two different hands: my block capitals at
