“I didn’t know what to say, there were so many things I wanted to say and they all got stuck,” she says in a rush. “I was — I am just so … how can you love /me/?” She wants to say more, but the words, once again, get stuck. How does she explain to him years of being the lesser sister, of being overlooked and unseen, unwanted and alone? How does she put words around being able to see other people’s hearts, but never her own?

“No one has ever,” she whispers at last, “seen /me/ as someone worthy.”