In the distance I see a lighthouse. The light washes over us and continues on its rotation. This time, I don't know where the light will guide us.

Someday I'll tell you all of it," I say. "I'd like that," he says. "No," I say. "I promise you won't.

I don't know if it was love or an illusion. I don't know if there's ever a way to be certain.

When I was 11 or 12, I was really bored with everything on my summer reading list. It was all happy, middle-grade kinds of books. I was getting frustrated, because I liked to read. My mother went to the library and got me a copy of 'The Other Side of Midnight' by Sidney Sheldon. It was my first adult book.

Living in a place like this, she must have learned how to see all the monsters that can hide a person.

It doesn't matter how much his mother loves him; love is not enough to keep any of us alive.

I see an ocean that’s spilled out of a wineglass, its body clear and sparkling and folding over itself. I see a ribbon of sand.