“And in that moment - sitting on the splintering veranda steps of Orchard House, surrounded by Vegetable Valley, looking up at the first and last great love of her life - Josephine March knew precisely what to do. And even more, she knew she was going to do it.
Risk it. Embrace it. Maybe even, one day, lose it.
Love.
It would be her honor and her pleasure to go down with this particular ship. They could be dashed together upon the rocks, sink together to the ocean floor. Only blurry, ink-splotched pages to mark their watery grave.
Because it was always our story.
It just never had the right ending.”