Sara never believed in fate. The whole idea of it seemed sort of lazy to her. Like it didn't matter what kind of effort you put into your life because everything was just going to turn out, or not, no matter what you do. Her mother could not disagree more, which was probably the second reason why Sara found the topic of fate so distasteful. When she was just 4 years old, Sara and her mother were running errands in downtown Hanover when they were in a terrible car accident. While driving past the park a man dashed out of a cluster of high hedges near the road, and her mother ran the station-wagon head long into the brick edifice of an old dry-cleaner. Truthfully Sara remembered very little about the incident other than the chinese owner of the dry-cleaning shop cutting away her seat-belt with a pair of pinking shears, and his wife hugging her and saying things in chinese, obviously distressed that Sara wouldn't stop crying. Thankfully neither Sara nor her mother were hurt other than a few bumps and bruises, but it was soon after that her mother began talking about fate.        At first it was little things. Sara's mother would lose her car keys and then find find them in a drawer sitting on top the bank statement she had been looking everywhere for. Or the motor in the refrigerator would break down, spoiling all the food inside, and on the trip to the mini-mart to pick up a small carton of milk to last through the next morning Sara and her mother would happen to see a rainbow, or an owl, or a salamander.         "Pay attention," Sara's mother would say, "the Fates are putting on a show for you." She talked about fate like this often. She got the idea from a book they often read together at night about the Gods of Ancient Greece. On page 13, just after the picture of Apollo driving a chariot pulling the sun, but before the picture of the 9 muses where Calliope looks like a witch, there's a picture of the three Fates, sisters who decided what your life would be like before you even started living it.         The whole idea that three little old women were orchestrating her life never sat right with Sara. Sometimes Sara and her mother would go to visit a strange old woman and her fiends at the big park near her school.

After all, as far as she could tell Sara had never met these people, never talked to them or given any hint as to what she was supposed to be doing. But then again, Sara never gave much thought to what she was supposed to be doing.         Sara mulled these ideas over from time to time when her mother would point out another coincidence, but never gave them much thought until she started school.