She made her way into her bedroom and changed into her running gear.  She grabbed her cell-phone and her keys and headed outside.  As she descended the stairs to exit the building she wondered how precisely she was meant to stick to the routine and decided that these extraordinary circumstances allowed for some leeway.  With that she abandoned the route she had followed so closely until today and jumped into the mini heading for the trails where Dana had run every morning and where on rare but special occasions they had run together.

As she began to slowly jog along the path the fact that she had now made all the decisions she needed to, freed up Alice’s mind enough to allow her to reflect on the morning.  Before she took her sneaky peek the night before, if truth be told, Alice had been hoping that the box contained some sort of message from Dana.  She had assumed that it probably contained some singular item Dana had wanted the gang to have but was clinging to the hope that there was an accompanying note.  Now however confronted with the reality that it contained so much communication from Dana, Alice was feeling utterly overwhelmed.

Alice wracked her brain trying to work out for a start, when Dana had found the time or the energy to write the letters and put together the contents of the box.  Alice had spent virtually all her time with Dana from the day that Lara left and she was not exactly overflowing with boundless energy.  Fleetingly the thought crossed Alice’s mind that the energy expended on the contents of the box might have made the difference if held in reserve for the fight that was ultimately lost.  Alice shook her head violently as she slowly made her way along the trail. 

The writer knew she still had a lot of unresolved issues with Dana’s death but she had worked hard at accepting that at the very least what had happened had been unavoidable and nothing could have changed the outcome.  In the days following Dana’s death as she went from the arms of one of her friends to the next desperately seeking comfort that was unobtainable, she had covered all the what ifs.  What if I hadn’t gone on my stupid date that night and I’d got Dana to the hospital quicker? What if I never took that stupid walk outside and I’d been with her and called the doctors quicker?  What if I hadn’t got so crazy and we’d never broken up – surely I would have felt that lump sooner than Lara did?  What if we hadn’t gone to the ridiculous prom was that where she picked up the infection?  What if, what if, what if?