The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

by V.E. Schwab

And she looks up at him, eyes shining, not with some spell, but tears, and he does not know at first if she is heartbroken or happy. “I couldn’t understand,” she says. “No one has ever remembered. I thought it was an accident. I thought it was a trap. But you’re not an accident, Henry. You’re not a trap. You remember me because you made a deal.” She shakes her head. “Three hundred years spent trying to break this curse, and Luc did the one thing I never expected.” She wipes the tears away, and breaks into a smile. “He made a mistake.” There is such triumph in her eyes. But Henry doesn’t understand. “So our deals cancel out? Is that why we’re immune to them?” Addie shakes her head. “I’m not immune, Henry.” He cringes back, as if struck. “But my deal doesn’t work on you.” Addie softens, takes his hand. “Of course it does. Your deal and mine, they nest like Russian dolls together in a shell. I look at you, and I see exactly what I want. It’s just that what I want has nothing to do with looks, or charm, or success. It would sound awful, in another life, but what I want most—what I need—has nothing to do with you at all. What I want, what I’ve always truly wanted, is for someone to remember me. That’s why you can say my name. That’s why you can go away, and come back, and still know who I am. And that’s why I can look at you, and see you as you are. And it is enough. It will always be enough.” Enough. The word unravels between them, opening at his throat. It lets in so much air...