More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Justine was the most open and loving and genuinely good person I had ever known. And I was— Well. Not like her.
Words and stories were tools to elicit the desired reactions in others, and I was an expert craftswoman.
The decor left a bit to be desired, if one desired things like taste or elegance.
If I could have worn nothing but my slips, I would have. But clothes were part of the role I played. And I never stepped out of character where they could see me.
I had become this girl in order to survive, but the longer I lived in her body, the easier it was to simply be her.
Henry had asked if I was happy. I was safe, and that was better than happy.
“You are mine, Elizabeth Lavenza, and nothing will take you from me. Not even death.”
I would lose my Justine for nothing. Would lose the one person I had tried to save in the midst of a life spent selfishly trying to make certain I stayed safe myself. The one person I loved because she made me happy, rather than because my security depended on her.
They had stripped us of everything we were taught made us women, and then told us we were mad.
It was so hard, sorting through what was left of me when I cut off the parts that existed for others.
if nothing else, your past should teach you the value of life. The wild and precious joy of it.
