August 5, 2019
An unwieldy question, for sure. How can one see death coming, exactly? Even if she knows there was nothing she could've done, she still beats herself up. A small gesture, a quick visit, a random phone call—anything. There must've been something that would've added a few more days. And then what? A few more days and he still dies. Sam's always afraid of being found out: The truth is she didn't love him enough, didn't call him enough, didn't think of him enough. In the cemetery she visits him, covers her face in disgust. Why wasn't there enough time?