Kristin Hannah

always thought it was what I wanted: to be loved and admired. Now I think perhaps I’d like to be known.

Leni was afraid to stay and afraid to leave. It was strange—stupid, even—but she often felt like the only adult in her family, as if she were the ballast that kept the creaky Allbright boat on an even keel.

But sometimes, especially on days like today, Leni was afraid. It felt to her as if her family stood poised on the edge of a great precipice that could collapse at any second, crumble away like the houses that crashed down Seattle’s unstable, waterlogged hillsides.

She had lain awake long past midnight, reading about the vast landscape of Alaska. It had captivated her in an unexpected way.

She thought she’d known pain before, but she hadn’t; not until this moment.

“He is my home,” her mother said, shaking her head. “How will I live without him?”

To damage the earth is to damage your children.

—WENDELL BERRY, FARMER AND POET

Don’t worry about dying, Elsa. Worry about not living. Be brave.

A woman wanting a baby is like a seed wanting to grow

Believe me, Elsa, this little girl will love you as no one ever has … and make you crazy and try your soul. Often all at the same time.”