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Maybe it was so perverts couldn’t find it, thought Tracy. This, she knew, was what her father would have said. Against her will, she often heard his voice as a sort of narrative presence that underscored her life. That year—the first of the divorce—was the longest they had ever been apart.

She steps into their room. Pantomimes scanning the beds. Furrows her brow in a show of confusion.
“Where’s Barbara?” she says to them, brightly.

Em vários momentos tive medo de que os vagões saltassem dos trilhos, arrastados pela tempestade, e constatei que quanto mais se envelhece, mais se quer continuar vivo.