The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein

by Kiersten White

Surely God, so stingy with his miracles, would not answer an unoffered prayer. I did not repent of my distance from God. If I wanted help, I would find it for myself.

How privileged of him to be able to value his own feelings over the safety of others because he himself had never known what it was to be afraid.

All my machinations and manipulations filled me with shame. He had been far truer to me than I had been to him. I had wanted him because he kept me safe. But he had wanted me only because I was his Elizabeth. I looked up with tears in my eyes. “I love you, Victor Frankenstein.” He brushed my cheek and then kissed the spot where he had cleared a tear. “Of course you do. And I love you, Elizabeth Frankenstein.”