More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Unlike Ryder, I cried all the time. I cried when Leigh made me laugh too hard. I cried when I saw my mother in pain. I cried at the end of a great book, or when I heard a beautiful harmony. I cried when I lost a patient at the infirmary. I cried when I felt overwhelmed. It was the least brave quality—to be sensitive and fearful and full of tears.
He released me instantly, his face contorting in horror. “You’re hurt. Why didn’t you say something?” “It’s nothing, just a bruise.” Anger simmered in his eyes. “Who did this to you?”
Whenever I felt trapped, alone, pathetic . . . running reminded me that I could be strong.
