I nod like I'm not at all unnerved by this new cold side to him. Not cruel like his father. Not warm like the husband who sought me out on quiet nights. Something in between. This Linden has never woven his fingers through mine, never chosen me from a line of weary Gathered girls, never said he loved me in a myriad of coloured lights. We are nothing to each other.

He says one word, nodding into the daylight. "Look." It's an astounding word. It's a gift.

I've done it all before, I tell myself, and I can do it again. Trust is the strongest weapon.

She’s a commodity in a sea of broken girls.

I'll tell you something about true love. There's no science to it. It's as natural as the sky.

We accept gods that don't speak to us. We accept gods that would place us in a world filled with injustices and do nothing as we struggle. It's easier than accepting that there's nothing out there at all, and that, in our darkest moments, we are truly alone.

It's quiet for a while, and then Rowan says; "We could talk now. We're alone out here. No walls." "There are always walls." I say.