...maybe hope isn't such a bad thing. Maybe it's what keeps us together.

Even things that aren't broken can be fixed.

Life is much different from the days when there were lilies in my mother’s garden, and all my secrets fit into a paper cup.

He sits next to me, careful to avoid my hair that's splayed out around my head like blood. A bullet to the forehead, boom, blond waves everywhere.

It was a terrible decision, and I confess I'd make it again.

There's a world out there that nobody has bothered to promise her.

I can hear my brother's voice in my head. Your problem is that you're too emotional. But how can I not be emotional, Rowan? How can I not care?