And my sister, my Lindsey, left me in her memories, where I was meant to be.

My name is Salmon, like the fish; first name, Susie. I was fourteen when I was murdered.

I was in the air around him. I was in the cold mornings he had now. I was in the quiet time he spent alone. I was the girl he had chosen to kiss. He wanted, somehow to set me free. -Susie Salmon

She liked to imagine that when she passed, the world looked after her, but she also knew how anonymous she was. Except when she was at work, no one knew where she was at any time of day and no one waited for her. It was immaculate anonymity.

I tried to take solace in Holiday, our dog. I missed him in a way I hadn't yet let myself miss my mother and father, my sister and brother. That way of missing would mean that I had accepted that I would never be with them again; it might sound silly but I didn't believe it, would not believe it.

You're not supposed to look back, you're supposed to keep going.

As she brought prospective buyers through, the realtor said it was an oil stain, but it was me, seeping out of the bag.