So many versions of just one memory, and yet none of them were right or wrong. Instead, they were all pieces. Only when fitted together, edge to edge, could they even begin to tell the whole story.

Sometimes, you get things right the first time. Others, the second. But the third time, they say, is the charm.

Like a blinking cursor on an empty page, it was just the first thing. The beginning of the beginning. But at least it was done.” “It was kind of soothing, these sounds of lives being lived all around me, for better or for worse. And there I was, in the middle of them all, newly reborn and still waiting for mine to begin.

I would miss Colby, but it wasn't going anywhere. All the more reason why I should.

Sometimes, you have to manufacture your own history. Give fate a push, so to speak.

It was amazing how you could get so far from where you'd planned, and yet find it was exactly were you needed to be.