Thunderhead (Arc of a Scythe, #2)

by Neal Shusterman

And each time I witness a cruel act by a corrupt scythe, I seed the clouds somewhere in the world, and bring a lamentation of rain. Because rain is the closest thing I have to tears.

He’ll put my arm in a cast.” “A what?” “Voodoo!” said Marie. “An ancient healing ritual. They wrap the arm in plaster and leave it that way for months.”

She reached over, turned on the light, and the reality of the situation hit Rowan with both barrels… because although it was Tyger Salazar sitting in the wheelchair, it wasn’t Tyger who Rowan found himself looking at. He was looking at the smiling face of Scythe Goddard.

grief is not an excuse for depravity.”