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123 21 The letter in Gilchrist’s hand seems like something alive as he turns it slowly to the light. The handwriting on the white pages blurs until he brings the pages to eye level and rereads what he has already read twice. Having memorized the salutation (“My dearest Dodge . . .”) and the first sentence (“I cannot help but write this letter, but I want you to know that it is because I love you more than I can say in these words . . .”), he proceeds to read what he is still trying to understand but cannot accept. The letter continues: “I consider myself so lucky, Dodge, because of what you told me. For months I’ve been trying to understand why you are so sure you love me, but I can’t. I really can’t. I seem so ordinary to myself, but you are so out of the ordinary. I am someone from a country the whole world is trying to forget, and you are from the greatest country in the world. And you are known throughout the world. You were Uncle Sharif’s best friend. You’re even making sure that his work does not die, and I know the risks you are creating for yourself by doing this. And you stayed close to me after the accident. Dr. Voss told me that you stayed and talked to me every night while I was in a coma. You talked me back to life. You helped me to walk and speak again. You were never impatient with me. Every time I wanted to give up and just let life or death do what it wanted with me, you wouldn’t let me. I could not have come back without you. And now you’ve given me a home in your home, and you make sure that someone is always with me when you are away. And I could do nothing for you in return. Once I told you that I wasn’t able to show you how grateful I am, and you just looked away and said I didn’t have to do anything. You made me feel as if I just had to breathe and stay alive, and that was thanks enough. And that is why I am writing to you now. I am a coward, Dodge. I don’t have the courage to talk to you face-to-face and tell you what is in my heart, what I feel for you. But I cannot just be one who receives anymore, 124 | The Time Remaining my dearest. You can’t understand what it means to a woman to know that there is nothing she can do for someone she loves—nothing. She feels herself shrinking. She begins to feel unnecessary, and no woman wants to feel unnecessary. I know you love me, Dodge, in your own way, but I must find a way to give back in my own way. Because I’m just beginning to feel well, I have asked Dr. Voss if he will help me go away for a time so I can heal by myself. And then I can return to you with something within me that is mine and mine alone to give you. Dr. Voss has found a place where I can go. He even made it possible for me to do a little work there. He thinks that typing will help my coordination. I know that you’ll be able to find me if you try, Dodge, but please don’t try. Please don’t. Give me the time I need. Please do this for me. You are in my thoughts and in my heart forever. I love you, and I pray every day that God will keep and bless you. Please understand, Dodge. Yours, Raya.” Gilchrist stares at Raya’s name at the bottom of the page, and it is as if he is staring at her face. Then he looks at the entire letter again. The handwriting is firmer at the beginning than at the end, as if her will were stronger at the beginning and then grew gradually weaker as she went on. The weeks preceding this moment gave him no hint that she was going to do what she did. He remembers the day he brought Raya from the hospital to his apartment. He relives the way he pushed the wheelchair through the apartment doorway, and Raya is asking him why she can’t just walk in...

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