Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil

by V.E. Schwab

“No, you don’t,” she says, cupping Alice’s face. “Don’t be me, Bones. Just be you.” The bonfire crackles. Alice swallows. “But I don’t know who that is.” “That’s okay.” Catty cracks a smile. “You’ve got all the time in the world to find out.”