This is going to sound weird, and I know I shouldn’t say this to my future daughter. But I found it kind of thrilling. There’s something about walking past a department store security guard, a stolen dress under your clothes, that makes you feel both powerful and invisible at the same time. And it’s been so long since I’ve felt either of those things.

Gabriel says that we’re transforming into true outlaws, the two of us. He believes that we’ll be folk heroes, like Bonnie and Clyde.

I don’t know about that. But it is true that I’m becoming someone else—a different person, unlike anyone I’ve ever known.

Love,

April

Nineteen

Robin

“HOW LONG CAN she be like this?” Robin asked the nurse.

The nurse, whose name was Verity, didn’t say anything right away. They were in the ICU at St. Catherine’s, the two of them, watching Robin’s mother, pillows propped up behind her head, her chest rising and falling, the ventilator working away. Over the past few days, Robin had asked this question repeatedly of doctors, but every response had been both hasty and tentative. “It varies.” “There are many factors.” “I can’t predict the future.”

One doctor had offered up “Time will tell,” which had possibly been the most infuriating answer of all. Couldn’t even be bothered to come up with a noncliché.

Verity, though, took the question seriously. “I’ve seen people taken off the ventilator after more than a week and they’re just fine,” she said.

Robin looked at her. “That’s good.”

“But . . .”

“But.”

“Look, I’m not going to lie to you. Every hour she’s on that thing, the weaker she gets.”

Robin swallowed hard. “Have they talked about trying to wean her off it?”

“She’s on light sedatives, but from what I’ve heard, she hasn’t given them anything.” Verity looked at her. “She doesn’t react. Doesn’t move.”

“Maybe she would if they took her off the breathing tube,” Robin said.

Verity shook her head. “If they thought she’d survive it, they’d do it.”

Tears began to well in Robin’s eyes. She’d almost have preferred a cliché, but then again what had she expected? The woman’s name literally meant truth.

“Ms. Diamond.”

“Yeah?”

“You love your mom, don’t you?”

“Very much.”

“Before she got in here, you spent a lot of time with her?”

“She was . . . she is my best friend.”

“That’s good,” she said. “You’re lucky.”

Robin nodded.

“Have you told her everything you need to tell her? Because . . . you know . . . if you haven’t, I’m a firm believer that they hear you. A part of them hears you, even when they’re like this.”

Robin’s gaze stayed on her mother’s placid face. “I have told her everything,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure she’s done the same.”