And if I have to die trying, I will get out of here.

Times like this, when she slips her hand into mine and holds on tight, and our husband becomes just a shadow in the doorway.

So many of the things I've wanted are the things I've been taught to fear.

I think she's brave. I think that nobody has ever believed what she could be capable of. All her life, nobody was listening.

I stare at her collarbone that's framed with lace, the hollow of her throat, her shoulders that rise with each rise with the weight of her next breath. We're fragile things. Our bones show through our skin. What would any god want with us?

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

He gathers me up and I'm weightless before he sets me on the railing. He's the only thing keeping me from falling back, out of the reach of daylight. I'm not afraid of falling. I don't fear the sky beyond the train tracks like I did before. I can go anywhere just so long as it's with him.