That's what time does: We stand stubbornly like rocks while it flows all around us, believing that we are immutable - and all the time we're being carved, and shaped, and whittled away.
The sparrows jumped before they knew how to fly, and they learned to fly only because they had jumped.
I know some of you are Thinking maybe I deserved it. But before you start pointing Fringers, let me ask you Is what I did really so bad? So bad I deserved to die? So bad I deserved to die like that? Is what I did really much worse Then what anybody else does? Is it really so much worse Than what you do?
It won't matter if nobody ever thinks I'm pretty (although sometimes I wish, just for a second, that somebody would)
The question was: Will you meet me tomorrow? And the word was: Yes.
That is the rule of the Wilds: You must be bigger and stronger and tougher. You must hurt or be hurt.
I put my forehead on his collarbone, place one hand on his chest. Its rhythm reassures me: He is real, and he is now.
Mama, Mama, put me to bed I won’t make it home, I’m already half-dead I met an Invalid, and fell for his art He showed me his smile, and went straight for my heart.
That is what Alex is now: a shadow-boy
I was glad when the invalids were executed
I’m not the Hana everyone told me I would be after my cure.
This is the language of the world before—a world of chaos and confusion and happiness and despair—before the blitz turned streets to grids, cities to prisons, and hearts to dust.
For a split second, he had looked almost like my Alex again.
I think of Grace and feel a sharp pain in my chest.
Until, one day, she wasn’t.
Because if it weren’t for me, Lena and Alex would never have been caught at all. I told on them. I was jealous.
For a moment, my heart aches for him. I should never have asked him to join me here; I should never have asked him to cross.
I close my eyes. An image flashes—emerging from the van with Julian after our escape from New York City; believing, in that moment, that we had escaped the worst, that life would begin again for us. Instead life has only grown harder.
I’m with Julian,” I say at last. This, after all, is what I have chosen.
The mark of the procedure. A real one. Lu is cured.
I’m sorry,” he repeats again, too low for Raven and Tack to hear. “I’m sorry for everything.
We’ll go.” Her voice is surprisingly deep and forceful. Set in her sunken, shipwreck face, her eyes burn like two smoldering coals. “We’ll fight.
I am now officially married to Fred Hargrove. Nothing will ever be the same.
I'll find you," he says, watching me with the eyes I remember. "I won't let you go again
I don't understand how everything changes, how the layers of your life get buried. Impossible. At some point, at some time, we must all explode.
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