When I got home, I had this sense of urgency overtaking me. I needed to read those diary entries and I needed to read them fast. The faster I read them, the closer I could get to Eleanor and God, did I want to be close to her. I wanted to get inside her mind and see how she worked, how she felt, how she loved. I locked my door behind me and kicked off my shoes, sitting at my desk in the corner of my apartment, by a bright window. I grabbed a piece of paper and pen, ready to take notes on what I was about to read. I would need to study them after I was done. I opened my phone to my camera roll and I swiped up until I found the first picture that I took.