You can't stop time. You can't capture light. You can only turn your face up and let it rain down.

They turned a distracted gaze on the world, wide-eyed, somehow, and questioning.

He'd kept this silence because his own secrets were darker, more hidden, and because he believed that his secrets had created hers.

Twin threads ran through her: fear and excitement.

It seemed there was no end at all to the lies a person could tell, once she got started.

Her voice, high and clear, moved through the leaves, through the sunlight. It splashed onto the gravel, the grass. He imagined the notes falling into the air like stones into water, rippling the invisible surface of the world. Waves of sound, waves of light: his father had tried to pin everything down, but the world was fluid and could not be contained.

She saw herself moving through another life, an exotic, difficult, satisfying life.