Jacián!" She yells again, and then she says something in Spanish. A moment later he comes down the hallway. "I'm going to tell Grandfather you said that," he says. "What do you want?

If you don't want me to see, I guess, don't sleep in the same room as me." He looks at her with a sly smile. "But I'm known for sleeping in school. It's my shtick.

It's just the end of some things. And the beginning of others.

Janie calls Cabel. "Hi, uh, Mom," she says. Cabel snorts. "Hello, dear. Did you make it through the blizzard?" "Yeah. Barely." Janie grins into the phone.

If you want to touch me, Kendall, touch me. Don't hide behind those little girl slaps.

And he's pressing into her and she into him, bodies shivering, like they are two scared, lost children, starving, starving to be touched, to be held, by someone, anyone, the first one they can find who seems familiar enough, safe enough, strong enough to rescue them. They breathe, heavy. Hard. Their fingers strain at cotton. And then they slow down. Stop. Hold. Rest. Before one of them, or both, begins to sob. Before they break another piece that needs to be fixed.

The Thickety is a sinister, magical debut with a marvelous and shocking heroine. J.A. White’s elegant writing and masterful plot kept me turning pages late into the night.