Nora was certain that because of this she would succeed, that it was this inflammatory ambition, not talent, that made a difference. But in the back of her mind was the understanding that having that kind of hunger was a razor blade hidden at the bottom of the bag; that it meant not getting what you wanted would be crippling.
All jobs sound silly unless you’re a pediatric oncologist, or a plumber.
Naturally, since she was eleven, the beginning of a time when, Nora now know from experience, girls are as mean as sleet and should be cryogenically frozen and then reconstituted later...
You could argue they’d lost their way, in their choices, their work, their marriage. But the truth was, there wasn’t any way.
