Tess searched for the obituary.
She typed in the name, checking on this woman she had never met but felt like she knew.
Incredibly morbid, yes. But a morbid curiosity to know the stranger's fate propelled Tess forward. She had only heard stories about the woman before, but having been effected by her existence, Tess felt that knowing the woman's fate was somehow very important.
You see, she cannot ask if the woman has died.
She can only wonder.
It wasn't hard to find out who she was, Tess had known early on who she was. And she had wanted her to live but sometimes she wished she'd go away and sometimes she wished she could just ask her questions.
But Tess knew the woman had red lips. Like her. And curls. Like her.
And Tess wants to know how the story ends.
She wants to know the rest of the stranger's story. She wants to know if the woman is at peace or if she fought and healed herself and healed her torched relationships and survived against all odds and experienced a miracle.
But she cannot ask. She can only wonder.
There is no obituary.
And though Tess supposes she won't ever meet the woman, nor does she think she'd ever want to, she hopes the woman has kept fighting.
