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‘Watch out who you’re blaming,’ he clarified, lips tight. ‘You’re not too much. The place is too small. Very different problem, very different solution.’
She let out a choked sound and cradled me in her arms, forehead bumping against the crown of my head – my mother, holding me. A hot tear dripped onto my temple, and then another one. ‘My baby girl,’ she whispered, voice shaking on the edge of sobs. ‘Oh, my darling, darling baby girl …’ And then, finally, I was crying too.
‘Even if you can't be everyone's hero, that doesn't make you a villain, cactus.’
‘You keep trying to be the flawless hero. But I truly don’t think it’s perfection that will save us in the end. It’s persistence. It’s digging your heels in the sand and refusing to give up until things are finally as they are supposed to be – and mistakes or no, you’ve always been frighteningly good at being stubborn.’
Blue for healing.
