More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“You don’t deserve your ghosts, Gracewood. Your place is with the living.”
He believed he’d left her to die. When, instead, it was she who’d left him to wander, in grief and guilt, a battlefield of corpses.
“This friend of yours does not seem like a very good influence on you.” His eyes met hers. Memory had not done their blue justice, nor the warmth that lay beneath their beauty, like some undersea garden. “He was the joy of my life.”
“Forgive my language, but”—his eyes were as steady on hers as the clasp upon her wrist, his mouth suddenly full of smiles—“fuck the world. I will change it for you if I have to.”
