Hey, Ocean Eyes,” My Father Said. “where’d

A Father's Suspicion...' She Began. Is As Powerful As A Mother's Intuition.' ~pg 87, Ruana Singh And Jack Salmon

She Was Unaware That She Was Somewhat Of A Celebrity Up In Heaven. I Had Told People About Her, What She Did, How She Observed Moments Of Silence Up And Down The City And Wrote Small Individual Prayers In Her Journal, And The Story Had Travelled So Quickly That Women Lined Up To Know She Had Found Where They’d Been Killed. She Had Fans In Heaven..... Meanwhile, For Us, She Was Doing Important Work, Work That Most People On Earth Were Too Frightened Even Too Contemplate.

It Was Buckley, As My Father And Sister Joined The Group And Listened To Grandma Lynn’s Countless Toasts, Who Saw Me. He Saw Me Standing Under The Rustic Colonial Clock And Stared. He Was Drinking Champagne. There Were Strings Coming Out From All Around Me, Reaching Out, Waving In The Air. Someone Passed Him A Brownie. He Held It In His Hand But Did Not Eat. He Saw My Shape And Face, Which Had Not Changed-the Hair Still Parted Down The Middle, The Chest Still Flat And Hips Undeveloped-and Wanted To Call Out My Name. It Was Only A Moment, And Then I Was Gone.

You Look Invincible,' My Mother Said One Night. I Loved These Times, When We Seemed To Feel The Same Thing. I Turned To Her, Wrapped In My Thin Gown, And Said: I Am.

And My Sister, My Lindsey, Left Me In Her Memories, Where I Was Meant To Be.