For stubborn souls like Lisette, death was easier than the courage it took to actually change your life.

Blank-slate friendships were thin and temperamental. She knew that. There was no history there to cement people together, for better or worse.

Don't let anyone see your vulnerable spots. Once they knew how to hurt you, they would do it again and again.

That, they knew, was true friendship. And they knew, if you're lucky enough to find it, you hold on to it.

There was a mood of magic and frenzy to the room. Crystalline swirls of sugar and flour still lingered in the air like kite tails. And then there was the smell-the smell of hope, the kind of smell that brought people home.

It was early evening when they walked outside, the sky the color of pink lemonade.

He was the only person in the world she was tongue-tied around, and yet the only person she really wanted to talk to.