Our future is pure and shining. I feel this surely, with every cell in my body. It is so close I can taste it. Grasp it in the greedy palm of my hand, in my clutching fingers. Its weight. Its purpose. Someday, Anna. Someday we will eat chorizo smoked potatoes, drink rose lemonade, feed each other fruit from our fingers. Someday you will ask me which dessert I want to buy at the bakery and I’ll say, all of them. Someday we will be flower shopping and you will touch my shoulder underneath the pink magnolia tree, and your hair will curl with delight, and you will say, I am so happy I feel like weeping. It is like a photograph in my mind, impressed upon me. It is engraved onto the core of my being. What have I done to earn you? What wouldn’t I do? What wouldn’t I do to keep you, Anna?
—  Mabel.