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Her mother had once told her that one could run away from home, from husband, from children, from trouble, but it was impossible to run away from oneself. “You always have to take yourself with you,” she said. And now, bending towards her mother, Hope wondered if in death you were finally able to run away from yourself. This might be death’s gift. She knew that the thought wasn’t terribly profound, but she was moved by the notion of completion and of escape.
