Beatrice," she says. "Beatrice, we have to run." She pulls my arm across her shoulders and hauls me to my feet. She is dressed like my mother and she looks like my mother, but she is holding a gun, and the determined look in her eyes is unfamiliar to me.

Shh,” I say. “Arms around me.” Obediently, he slips both arms around my waist. I smile at the wall. I am not enjoying this. I am not, not even a little bit, no.

At first Eric stares at Four in silence. Four stares back.

I have a theory that selflessness and bravery aren't all that different.

Suicide to them is an act of selfishness. Someone who is truly selfless does not think of himself often enough to desire death.

I understand why she did all those things, but that doesn't mean we aren't still broken.

Seeing people who are actually reading your book and listening to the wide variety of reactions they have to it, is really special.