When feeling came back, in a storm of color and force and sensation, the most you could do was hold on to the person beside you and hope you could weather it. Alex closed her eyes and expected the worst-but it wasn't a bad thing; it was just a different thing. A messier one, more complicated one. She hesitated, and then she kissed Patrick back, willing to concede that you might have to lose control before you could find what you'd been missing.

In the end, though, I did not kill my sister. She did it all on her own. Or at least this is what I tell myself.

Here I am, wasting away inside a book I wish I could escape, and all she wants to do is stay in the story. If I could talk to this girl Delilah, I’d ask her why on earth she would ever trade a single second of the world she’s in for the one in which I’m stuck

Add love, and all the lines between right and wrong were bound to disappear.

What if love wasn't the act of finding what you were missing but the give-and-take that made you both match?

People changed. Even the people you thought you knew as well as you knew yourself.

You can't exist in this world without leaving a piece of yourself behind.