Some things are private. Some things needed to be said, even when the person who needed to hear them couldn’t hear anything. Ever again.
Rachel VincentThe queen was my favorite chess piece. Unlike the women I knew in real life, she was powerful. Her job was to defend her husband at all costs, because while he was weak and practically defenseless—only allowed to move one square at a time—she was the strongest player on the board, hindered by no restrictions at all.
Rachel VincentSorry doesn’t mean anything! Not when you’re still with him. It’s not just that you cheated—it’s that he’s still here, and you’re still with him. It just goes on and on, and it hurts every single time I see you with him. I hate it that he makes you smile, and that there’s nothing I can do to stop this. I can’t think straight, and everything hurts, and nothing makes sense anymore. You’re shredding my heart with one hand and stroking his ego with the other. And it’s killing me, Faythe. You’re killing me. And it’s only going to get worse, now that everyone knows.
Rachel VincentWhat could thunderbirds want with us?" I wondered aloud [...] "We'll find out when Big Bird wakes up," Marc said. My father shook his head. "We'll find out now. Wake him up and make him sing.
Rachel VincentWell that's too bad, because this is an assassination." "No, this is an execution." "The difference would be...?" "Assassination is murder. Execution is justice.
Rachel VincentYou mostly.” Her hands went still again as her eyes stared off into the past with a look so wistful it made me ache for her. “The boys tended to take care of each other but you were too much for anyone else to handle.” I poked at the ball of yarn avoiding her eyes. “I wasn’t that bad.” She smiled. “You broke Ethan’s arm.” “It was self-defense. He wouldn’t let go of my foot.” “He was helping you tie your shoe.
Rachel Vincent