Ronan Lynch lived with every sort of secret.

She liked to imagine him stealing a glimpse of her over the backyard fence, proudly watching his strange daughter daydream under the beech tree. Blue was awfully fond of her father, considering she'd never met him.

Dying's a boring side effect.

It matters, like this: I belong to Malvern, you don't.

It tore my heart out, because I heard his voice. The wolves sang slowly behind him, bittersweet harmony, but all I heard was Sam. His howl trembled, rose, fell in anguish. I listened for a long time. I prayed for them to stop, to leave me alone, but at the same time I was desperately afraid they would. Long after the other voices had dropped away, Sam kept howling, very soft and slow. When he finally fell silent, the night felt dead.

Right now, it's hard to imagine that it is raining anywhere in the world.

She reached down and traced my eyebrows. 'You do have really beautiful eyes.' 'We get to keep them,' I said. Grace started at my voice. 'What?' 'It's the one thing we keep. Our eyes stay the same.' I unclenched my fists. 'I was born with these eyes. I was born for this life.