“Look, I can’t stand it. I can’t stand watching her come home, with that bleak look on her face, like nothing is ever going to change. I can’t stand knowing how damn close she is to finding something that will give her hope, or a purpose, or whatever it is she needs right now. And I can’t stand that I can’t help her cheat and bridge that tiny gap.
“Because then it wouldn’t be a miracle, would it? And that’s what she needs: a miracle. Something unexpected, falling from the sky, that nobody could have planned. She needs to be able to look at it from every angle and realize that it’s true, that she can reach out and touch it and hold it in her hands. I could give it to her—just sort of roll it out there without anyone noticing—and only I would ever know that it was me. But it would be me. And there’s a magic to letting the universe work by itself.