The seeds are tiny, unborn things, and I resent them. They'll be planted and they'll grow into exactly what they're meant to be.

Gabriel's voice can reach me anywhere. Even in a hurricane.

It taught that there are three versions of things: the one I see in my mind, and the one that carries onto the paper, and then what it ultimately becomes.

I lost everyone I loved," I tell him. I wait for him to look at me, and then I add, "The day I met you.

What have you done? What have you given up?' So many things, Cecily. More than you know.

I start trying to stay unconscious. The problem with this is that no amount of willpower can change the reality.

The sullen boy sitting before me is not my husband, and the girl he is fretting over isn't me, will never be me.