I remembered standing in the middle of the street in front of The Crooked Bookshelf, filled with the certainty of a future. I had heard the wolves howling behind the house and remembered how glad I had been to be human.

That night, like every other night since I’d met her, I curled Grace into my arms, listening to her parents’ muffled movements in the living room. They were like busy little brainless birds, fluttering in and out of their nest at all hours of the day or night, so involved in the pleasure of nest building that they hadn’t noticed that it had been empty for years.

Teenagers want to be able to fight for what's right - but finding out what's right is now 90 percent of the battle.

you're like a siren, leading me into dangerous places

The room went dark and, after a moment, Grace whispered that she loved me, sounding a little sad. I wrapped my arms tightly around her shoulders, sorry that loving me was such a complicated thing.

Then Maura made something with butter and Calla made something with bacon and Blue steamed broccoli in self-defense.

Grace, who haunted my thoughts when I couldn’t dream