"When I write now, I pretend I'm holding hands with the old me. I try to make sense of all those questions for her."

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My eyes are bright, my hair has come loose from its ribbon, and Stella's scarf is waving around my neck. But that's not what I see when I look at the picture. I see three unlikely friends holding hands. And Ryan, Kenny, and Melanie are standing behind us, rapt. And in the sky above us, I see a miracle.

— Wendy Mass