Firefly lane by kristin hannah7/8/2023 ![]() ![]() ![]() Then they saw it through each other’s eyes. Before they met, that road seemed to go nowhere at all it was just a country lane named after an insect no one had ever seen in this rugged blue and green corner of the world. The place was relevant only as a reference point, but she remembered it in vivid detail: a meandering ribbon of asphalt bordered on either side by gullies of murky water and hillsides of shaggy grass. Too often lately in her dreams it was 1974 she was a teenager again, coming of age in the shadow of a lost war, riding her bike beside her best friend in a darkness so complete it was like being invisible. In the past week (unquestionably the worst seven days of her life), she’d lost the ability to distance herself from the memories. That was a long time ago-more than three decades-but just now, as she lay in bed listening to a winter storm raging outside, it seemed like yesterday. ![]() They used to be called the Firefly Lane girls. ![]()
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