The thing is, you don't get to know. It's not like you wake up with a bad feeling in your stomach. You don't see shadows where there shouldn't be any. You don't remember to tell your parents you love them or--in my case--remember to say good-bye to them at all.

“...and for a second I feel an overwhelming sense of joy, and I think she's done…”

“Las buenas amigas guardan los secretos; las amigas íntimas te ayudan a no conta…”

“Names don't mean a thing anymore. The past is dead.”

“You're not supposed to know," I say, and it's true: The tunnels may be long, an…”