I grabbed Aunt Prue's tiny hand, her fingers as small as bare twigs in winter. I closed my eyes and took her other hand, twisting my strong fingers together with her frail ones. I rested my forehead against our hands and closed my eyes. I imagined lifting my head up and seeing her smiling, the tape and tubes gone. I wondered if wishing was the same thing as praying. If hoping for something badly enough could make it happen.

I never loved you any more than I do, right this second. And I'll never love you any less than I do, right this second.

You watch yourself. One day you're going to pick a hole in the sky and the universe is gonna fall right through. Then we'll all be in a fix

The stuffs you're good at and the stuffs you're bad at are just different parts of the same thing. Same goes for people you love and the people you don't. And the people who love you and the people who don't. The only thing that mattered was that you cared about a few people.

Even when I didn't know anything else about where I was or what I was supposed to be doing. You were my Wayward, even then. Everything always brought me back to you. Everything.

Sometimes everyone does the right thing and there's still a mess left to clean up. Someone has to take responsibility for it.

Sixteen moons, Sixteen years Sixteen of your deepest fears Sixteen times you dreamed my tears Falling, Falling through the years