“I don’t think I’m okay,” she admitted to the stand of willow trees, trailing their branches in the water. She hadn’t thought, after weeks of barely making it out of bed, bleak and boring by turns, that she could even manage the hike to the far side of the lake. The trees recognized her bravery and her struggle, and so their branches parted to usher her into hidden spaces, deep and secret, where old magics might teach her healing.