That is the joy of reading fiction: when all is said and done, the novel belongs to the reader and his or her imagination.

“Jill and I have known each other our whole lives. One house separates our house…”

“At midnight the wind in the trees can sound like the ocean. The moonlight can m…”

“Our rest is formed by our waking life and our waking life is formed by our sorr…”

“Sometimes they'd be there for over an hour, the woman pointing out the catalpa …”