He took her in his arms right away. "I'm so sorry," he murmured in her ear. He rocked her, saying it over and over. But no matter how many times he said it, no matter how much she knew he meant it, the words stirred around in her ear but didn't get into her brain. Sometimes he could comfort her. Sometimes he said what she needed, but today he couldn't reach her. Nothing could.

Carmen didn't like change, and she certainly didn't like endings.

At the worst possible moment, the most painful, darkest moment when you can't take it anymore and you are afraid, that is when a feeling of peace and comfort will come over you, and it's like nothing you've ever felt.

Developing characters is a strange thing. In the beginning they are abstract and I wonder how to move on from there.

She wanted him to notice her so much.

But it was smell that carried memory.

All the things she planned to feel, the way she planned to look and seem, the appropriate things she planned to say. None of them came to pass.