I had watched Julian be trained out of his perceptions for thirty years; I was watching it start to happen to me in a matter of weeks.

And the terrible efficiency of it was that I did it to myself.

She didn’t have to silence me.

She only had to make speaking feel more dangerous than swallowing, and then let my own good manners, my own hope, my own reluctance to blow up a new marriage do the rest.

Standing there watching those sheets turn, I made a small private vow that I did not fully understand at the time.

I promised myself that whatever this was, I would not let it train me.