Fracture Me (Shatter Me, #2.5)

by Tahereh Mafi

“Yes,” she says, repeating the word a few times. She does that occasionally—repeats the same word over and over again. I’m not sure she’s even aware of it.

I’ll never love anyone the way I love this kid.

The reminder of my father and what he’d be willing to do to his

I know part of what she’s feeling has to do with Kenji, but suddenly I’m not sure if there isn’t something else. Something she’s not telling me.

I scowl at Kenji and Juliette, jealous of their fancy suits.

If it were up to me, she’d be back on base with James where I know she’d be safe, but she wouldn’t listen to me even if I asked her to.

Bro who even asked you

Suddenly James is the only person on my mind.

Kenji’s panicked voice telling me he saw Juliette go down and get dragged away, and that’s all I need to hear.

Kenji grins. “Okay then. Let’s go get our girl back.” “My girl,” I correct him. “She’s my girl.” Kenji snorts as we head in the direction of the compounds. “Right. Minus the part where she’s not actually your girl. Not anymore.” “Shut up.” “Uh-huh.” “Whatever.”

They got Brendan and Winston back—

“They’re mobilizing for an air assault,” Ian cuts in. “We just heard they’re going to bomb Omega Point.

“You said yourself that Warner isn’t going to kill her—she’ll be okay there for a little while.

What in the world is he sayin

I watched my own mother die, and, somehow, it didn’t hurt as much as this. I throw up then. All over the floor mats. The dead body of my ten-year-old brother. I’m dry-heaving, wiping my mouth on my shirt.

The tank stops. There’s no going forward anymore. There’s no one and nothing to get to, and we all know it.

I have nothing left now. Nothing left. Nothing so precious as my own flesh and blood.

I’m out the door and bolting past her, falling to my knees in front of the one person I never thought I’d see, not ever again.

I pick him up, cradling his body in my arms as I carry him back to the tank, and only then realize that the wet stain down the front of his pants isn’t from the rain.

GRRRROOOOOSSSSS

a small part of me is happy that our time at Omega Point is officially over.

Losing a parent is excruciating, but somehow, the pain is so much different from losing a child.

And James, to me, in many ways, feels like my own kid. I raised him. Took care of him. Protected him. Fed him and clothed him. Taught him most everything he knows. He’s my only hope in all this devastation—the one thing I’ve always lived for, always fought for. I’d be lost without him.

James gives my life...