They would always be a family, but if she'd learned anything in the past few weeks it was that a family wasn't a static thing. There were always changes going on. Like with continents, sometimes the changes were invisible and underground, and sometimes they were explosive and deadly. The trick was to keep your balance. You couldn't control the direction of your family any more than you could stop the continental shelf from breaking apart. All you could do was hold on for the ride.

Memories are who we are. In the end, that's all the luggage you take with you. Love and Memories are what last.

Lately he'd been seen going out less and less, becoming that strangest of animals in a small town: a loner.

It was true; always had been. Friendships were like marriages in that way. Routines and patterns were poured early and hardened like cement.

That was what a best friend did: hold up a mirror and show you your heart.

He is a man, and he is afraid. This is not a good combination.

Thoughts - even fears - were airy things, formless until you made them solid with your voice and once given that weight, they could crush you.