The difference, one that would take years for Mitty to realize, was that Patricia had lived long enough to know that there is always somewhere else to go. That life, despite its brutal corners, is actually quite forgiving as long as you continue to move through it. But how could she expect her daughter, who had existed for less than two decades, who had only ever lived in the same small suburb, to know this? Mitty’s perspective was, like her, small and bordered.