I finished this book at lunch today and I'm still working it out in my head. The story is told by a band of boys who only refer to themselves as "we," and who have taken it upon themselves to catalog and remember every detail of the Lisbon girls' short lives. Their earnestness and drive to understand makes the reader feel the same way - I felt like I was looking through their windows myself. I even began to feel protective of them toward the end of the book. On one hand, the ending is unsatisfying - none of the questions posed by the meandering narrators are answered. On the other hand, knowing the answers would have spoiled the myth the boys had created.