My breathing slowed. I shaded her thick chestnut hair resting in a smooth curve against her face, a large bruise blazing across her cheek. I paused, looking over my shoulder to make certain I was alone. I drew her eye makeup, smudged by tears. In her watery eyes I drew the reflection of the commander, standing in front of her, his fist clenched. I continued to sketch, exhaled, and shook out my hands.
Ruta SepetysHe threw his burning cigarette onto our clean living room floor and ground it into the wood with his boot. We were about to become cigarettes.
Ruta SepetysI leapt eagerly into books. The charactersโ lives were so much more interesting than the lonely heartbeat of my own.
Ruta Sepetys