The Book of Flora (The Road to Nowhere, #3)

by Meg Elison

They took apart the careful work of more than a hundred years in so little time. Destruction is easy. Creation is so much harder.

And there is one thing I know is true in this world: only what is remembered survives. Only what is written has a chance in the future. People forget. Rivers rise. Stories and songs are snuffed out every time some town takes a fever or loses to a man with a little power. Destruction is common. Creation is rare.

Now I see that if I do not carry my past with me, it will wrap itself around my ankles and drag me down. There is no living without it. There is no pretending I am not the sum of all these things.

We don’t stay free because of something we did once. We stay free because we fight our way free every day.