Take my words, take my heart, they are yours always. Even as my mind fades, I give my story to you, you who know in the same way that I know, their power. I have lived mine, and you have lived yours. That our stories can be together now, for this moment in time, is a gift. That they can help another two girls move forward with their lives—that is the greatest power of all.

—Wong Yun

Chapter 34

From the Reforged pencil of Louise Sun

Monica—

Can you feel the false starts too? How long it takes me to write these words? The weight of each one? How much each word does not want to be wrong, the way all of my other words have been?

The thing is that I

I’m really sorry for how

Let me back up.

You know that stories are important to me. I really think that people are not made of atoms. We are made of stories. And I’ve spent so long looking for mine, in America and in Shanghai. And then I met you.

You were remarkable to me, from the very beginning. You were hesitant and unsure of everything and yet you had a firm history. Of helping your grandparents. No matter what.

I wanted that. I wanted that so badly. But my relationship to my own family, to my own history, what little I know of it, is difficult, to say the least.

You must be wondering how I got my hands on one of your family’s pencils. The truth is, after Thanksgiving, I was feeling so lost and confused and nothing was helping—not talking with my advisor, my therapist, my teammates. I knew the only thing that would make me feel better was if I could somehow convince you to forgive me. Or perhaps speak to your grandmother, get on my knees and beg her to forgive me. But you said you needed time, and I had no way to get in touch with your grandmother. So I turned to the one other person I thought might be able to help me.

I still had her contact on my phone. I messaged and asked if I could call her. To my relief, she said yes.

We hadn’t talked since the summer. But that day, we video chatted. Her eyes squinted the whole time, and she held the phone so close to her face I could only see the top half of her head, the brows furrowed, staring into the bright screen.