• Everything drew lines between boundaries you could cross and ones you couldn’t. Boundaries were a monochromatic dimension with only the faint outlines and distinctions of reds. Red lines meant life-changing scenarios. Grey lines implied a minor change like falling behind with childhood friends. Some lines were not as defined as others; they faded and wore away from the constant crossings and the occasional trips and turns—the occasional reluctance and the carelessness. For him, she was a boundary too safely guarded for a long eighteen years. That line was still a scarlet red.