Adam had once told Gansey, "Rags to riches isn't a story anyone wants to hear until after it's done.

We all, one day, realize that we’re not going to be kids forever and we’re going to grow up.

The Boy should watch where he’s going,” she said. “Rachel should not manifest in doorways,” I replied.

She could've looked at the tiny miracles in front of her: my feet, my hands, my fingers, the shape of my shoulders beneath my jacket, my human body, but she only stared at my eyes. The wind whipped again, through the trees, but it had no force, no power over me. The cold bit at my fingers, but they stayed fingers. "Grace," I said, very softly. "Say something." "Sam," she said, and I crushed her to me.

...and we sat like that, one creature in two bodies, for a long time, until I forgot what I'd been upset about and I was myself again.

Oh, filmmakers, please don't take my soft book and turn it into a horror, or take my horror and make it soft.

You're beautiful and sad," I said finally, not looking at him when I did. "Just like your eyes. You're like a song that I heard when I was a little kid but forgot I knew until I heard it again." For a long moment there was only the whirring sound of the tires on the road, and then Sam said softly, "Thank you.