Words from my childhood stopped us at the front door.
How it begins is how it goes.
It was cracked and faded. Chipped and forgotten in so many ways. Everly traced the letters with her finger. โWho wrote this?โ
โVandals. Damn vandals. Youโd think in a nice area like this, we could avoid such pointless crime.โ
โCallum Andrew,โ she warned.
I sighed. โMy mother wrote it.โ
โWhy?โ
โI donโt know. Itโs just something she and my pop used to tell us as kids.โ
โIt kind of reminds me of something.โ Everly turned to me. โOne of my nurses gave me a box of paper dolls for my birthday one year. Do you know what those are?โ
โYeah, my sister had them.โ
She smiled. โI liked the idea of those dolls. You could just snap their lives on them, and if they wanted something new, something different, you just chose something else, and suddenly a little girl was a business woman or a cheerleader. I started to think about life like that, how interchangeable we all are. When I first met Truscott, he was about to have his millionth surgery. And all I could think as I watched him was, if I could just snap off my heart and give it to him, heโd be all better. But itโs never going to be that easy. I was born with hopelessness, and, chances are, Truscott will die with the same hopeless feeling. His mother will endure that same hopeless feeling.โ
I tutted, jokingly. โYou have too much doubt in my ability to steal your heart, Everly Anne.โ
โThat,โ she said, turning away, โis so very untrue. If anything, I believe too much in your ability.โ
โGood to hear, as I am one skilled man when it comes to stealing the hearts of pretty girls.โ
โOh, are you?โ She laughed.
โNo,โ I replied. โNot really.โ
โI do doubt that.โ
We stared at the door for a moment.
Everly finally asked, โSo, how do we begin, Callum Andrew?โ
โHmm,โ I thought. โHow about with our first day of freedom. We start with freedom.โ
โFreedom,โ she echoed. โFreedom sounds like a dream.โ