In the shower, she crafted soliloquies. When things were slow in the ICU, she drafted notes in her head. Dear Phil, You are the most important person in the world to me, and I never intended to hurt you. Or: I have never regretted a mistake more. You are the only person I want to be with. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Stale, tired-out sayings seemed to be the only words left to speak the truth. She tried composing a letter to him on her laptop but found she couldn’t stand being indoors for one minute longer. Full-on winter hadn’t even arrived yet, and already she had cabin fever. She zipped herself into her fleece jacket, grabbed her laptop, and headed for the backyard. After tying Cashew out on his rope, she settled herself cross-legged on the sweetheart bench with the laptop balanced on her knees. Dear Phil, she typed. The cursor waited patiently for her to continue. As I write this, you’re at school.
