Rachel Vincent

“Some things are private. Some things needed to be said, even when the person who needed to hear them couldn’t hear anything. Ever again.”

“When I was a child, all problems had ended with a single word from my father. A smile from him was sunshine, his scowl a bolt of thunder. He was smart, and generous, and honorable without fail. He could exile a trespasser, check my math homework, and fix the leaky bathroom sink, all before dinner. For the longest time, I thought he was invincible. Above the petty problems that plagued normal people.”

“Ethan was loyal and funny and protective. When we were little, he was the brother most likely to make me cry—and mostly likely to wipe away my tears.”

“...the dead have a way of becoming saints in the eyes of their survivors...”

“You don’t want me to stand against the council. You want a magic wand, so you can walk around smacking people with it until everything’s just the way you like it. But guess what, Faythe? Life doesn’t work like that. Life bites, and the harder you fight it, the more leverage it has to tear your heart right out of your chest. And if you really want to wake this particular sleeping dog, the truth is that if you’d just taken that "damn ring" five years ago, none of this shit would ever have happened!”

“Can’t clean up after you anymore, baby brother, so don’t punk out. Make it count.”

“Why is this so hard?” I whispered.”