It wasn’t a touch that said I need more. It was a touch that said I want this.

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

Now I am the unknown, the unknowable.

The piebald mare paws at the sand; I see her digging out of the corner of my eye and hear her grinding her teeth. That bridle's her curse, this island her prison. She still smells of rot.

His was the disease we couldn’t cure. His was the good-bye that meant the most

I always wanted an eccentric daughter . I just never realized how well my evil plans were working.

I can see her clearly, standing on the rock beside Peg Gratton, unflinching before Eaton and the rest of the race committee. I can't remember when I've been that brave, and it shames me. The truth is, I feel myself being fascinated and repelled by her; She's both a mirror of myself and a door to part of the island that i'm not. It's like when the mare goddess looked into my eye; I felt that there was a part of myself that I didn't know.