We cannot road trip to Paris.

We studied our angels for a few moments more, looking at where we had lain side by side in that sweet, quiet moment. I wished what I’d said was true, that we had truly left our mark on the mountain. But I knew that after the next snowfall, our angels would disappear into the whiteness and be nothing more than a memory.

You and me are going to have so much fun, Rose. Picking out curtains, doing each other's hair, telling ghost stories.

And here I thought you had a soft spot for reckless young girls.

Aw you'd never hurt me. My face is too pretty. -Adrian Ivashkov

But once in a while . . . I don't know. I feel so close, Rose. So close to the edge. Like if I allow myself one small misstep, I'll plunge away and never come back. It's like I'll lose myself.

(Men without ambition are boring) And that attitude, mistress, is why the females of your kind continue to struggle for equality. And why they continue to fail.