The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

by V.E. Schwab

Books, she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives—or to find strength in a very long one.

She cannot erase the memory of those other nights—so she decides to become a palimpsest, to let Remy write over the other lines.

“How long have you been with him?” “Two months. It’s not so bad,” she says, sipping her drink. “He falls for me every day.”