There are worse addictions than reality TV, chocolate and coffee.

But it was too early to know: there were always more pages to go, more words to be written, before the story was over.

I turned and looked into the gas station, where Wes was now paying, as the man who'd driven us looked on. "That's too bad," I said. "It's okay, though," she assured me. "Someday I'll show you an extraordinary boy, Macy. They do exist. You just have to believe me." "Don't worry," I said. "I do.

Because now, I didn't care what they thought. It wasn't new, this realization that I would never be like them. What was different now was that I was glad. Macy page 199

It's a choice, Annabel. And if you make the wrong one, you have only yourself to blame when there are consequences.

Grief can be a burden, but also an anchor. You get used to the weight, how it holds you in place.

For two hours I'd felt myself stretching tighter and tighter, like a rubber band pulled to the point of snapping. And now, I could feel the smaller, weaker part of myself beginning to fray, tiny bits giving way before the big break.