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He knew why I felt the weight of blood on my hands every time we lost a victim because I wasn’t smart or fast enough.
The harder I kissed him, the harder he kissed back. The closer we were, the closer I needed him to be.
You want to be needed. You want to be useful. You want to matter, even a little.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Michael said quietly. “Not you, Cassie.”
“You used to look at me and feel something,” Michael said. “I know you did.”
“I used to be Aaron’s sister. And now I’m not. And you used to be his person, and now you’re not.”
“Home isn’t a place, Cassie. Home is the people who love you most.”