12 Time passed . Spring came , and the flowers on my windowsill bloomed . I sold the old apartment . I couldn't stand to be in that place , thick with the ghosts of lies and betrayal , for one more day . Mr. Peterson helped me find a new place - a quiet top - floor apartment with a small rooftop terrace . With the money from the sale , I turned the terrace into a little garden , filling it with all sorts of flowers . My favorites were the sunflowers . They always turned their faces to the sun , looking so bright and hopeful . I didn't paint as much anymore . I started learning how to garden , how to cook . I learned to bake cookies and cakes , but I never used strawberries . I'd give my cookies to Mr. Peterson and my new neighbors . They all said I was a wonderful baker . They just called me Tricia , never " Mrs. Cross ." No one looked at me with pity or fear anymore . I was just their quiet , friendly neighbor . I liked that feeling . My world was becoming more and more real . I didn't need a dollhouse or a rulebook anymore . I had learned how to live in this new world on my own . I made new friends , found new hobbies . I even got a cat - a fat , orange tabby . I named him Pudding , because he was soft and sweet . I loved to sit in my garden , holding him and feeling the sun on my skin . It was warm . 5 It turned out that without a star or a sun to follow , I could learn to make my own light . One day , a package arrived with no return address . Inside was an old wooden box . In the box was a letter and a photograph . The letter was from Joshua . His handwriting was a desperate scrawl . It was long , full of excuses . He wrote about growing up poor , about being terrified of failure , about how he saw me as simple and easy to control- the perfect wife . He wrote that he had never loved me , that he had always loved women like Vivian - smart , beautiful , women who could help him get ahead . He wrote that he faked his death because he was a coward and was terrified of dying . 9/11 11:20 11.20 Chapter 2 He wrote that he regretted it . Not that he regretted hurting me , but that he regretted being so greedy that he ended up with nothing . The entire letter was a monument to his selfishness . There was not a single word of apology . I read it all , and I felt nothing . It was like reading a boring story about a stranger . I picked up the photo . It was from when we first met , taken in the park . My hair was in a ponytail , and I had a huge , happy grin on my face . Joshua stood behind me , his hands on my shoulders , his own smile just as bright . Back then , I thought his smile was real . I stared at the photograph for a long time . Then , I tore it , and the letter , into tiny , tiny pieces . I scattered the shreds of paper into the soil of my sunflower pot . " Look , Pudding , " I said to the cat purring at my feet . " The bad kid became fertilizer . " Pudding meowed and rubbed against my leg . " Now my flowers will grow even better next year . " And they would . Everything would be better . It was Mr. Peterson's birthday . The shops on the street were full of bright , festive decorations . I saw a moth- er buying her daughter a strawberry ice cream cone . The little girl had red smears all over her face and was laughing with delight . I paused for a moment , watched them , and then smiled and continued on my way . I had baked a birthd his name . cake for him . It was big and beautiful . I had decorated the top with fruit , spelling out No strawberries . I used cherries instead - deep red and shiny , like tiny jewels . His house was full of people - his children , his grandchildren . It was loud and happy . They all welcomed me , pulling me into the group to sing and cut the cake . Mr. Peterson gave the first piece to me . " Here , Tricia . A taste of your own masterpiece . " I took a bite . It was sweet . But it was a different kind of sweet from before . The sweetness Joshua gave me was tainted with lies . This sweetness , the kind I had made myself , tasted like sunshine and flowers . After the cake , I stood on his balcony and looked out at the city lights twinkling below . The world was so big , so complicated . It had good people and bad people , sweetness and bitterness . I didn't see it in simple black and white anymore . I just saw it . And I was living in it , my way . The doctors said I'd never really grow up , that my mind would always be like a ten - year - old's . Maybe they were right . But even a ten - year - old knows how to be grateful . And even a ten - year - old knows the difference between 10/11 11.20 11:20 Chapter 2 right and wrong . And that's enough . My star fell out of the sky once . But now , I am my own sun . Across the night sky , a real shooting star streaked through the darkness . I clasped my hands together and made a wish . I wished for Mr. Peterson to have a long and healthy life . I wished for my sunflowers to bloom every year . And I wished that all the bad kids in the world would be locked away in their own little boxes . And never , ever come out .