You saw me before I saw you. You had that look in your eyes, as if you wanted something. Wanted it for a long time.

People love what they're used to, I guess." "No." You shook your head. "People should love what needs loving. That way they can save it.

It sounded weird to hear you talk so much; normally you only said a few words at a time. I'd never imagined that you'd have a story, too. Until that moment, you were just the kidnapper. You didn't have reasons for anything. You were stupid and evil and mentally ill. That was all. When you started talking, you started changing.

Doesn't that hurt?" I said. "Yep." "How do you keep them in there?" "I'm stubborn." You grinned. "Stubborn as a waddywood. And anyway, pain means it's healing." "Not always.

Because it's magic, this place . . . beautiful. And you're beautiful . . . beautifully separate. It all fits.

You said you knew the perfect place to run to. A place that was empty of people, and buildings, and far, far away. A place covered in blood-red earth and sleeping life. A place longing to come alive again. It's a place for disappearing, you'd said, a place for getting lost... and for getting found. I'll take you there, you'd said. And I could say that I agreed.

It was like I existed in a kind of parallel universe, thinking thoughts and feelings that no one else understood.