The Desolations of Devil's Acre (Miss Peregrine's Peculiar Children, #6)

by Ransom Riggs

I’ve lost my soul, I’m afraid, but I can’t remember how. All I can recall are slow, churning cracks of thunder, and within them the syllables of my name, whatever it used to be, drawn out until unrecognizable.

“I will, I will lose my wig when it’s appropriate!” Horace shouted.

“I trust them about as far as I can throw them,” said Enoch. “Me too,” agreed Bronwyn. Enoch rolled his eyes. “You could throw them a long way.” “It’s true,” she said. “I have a trusting nature.”

I was sure, then, that I wanted to know Noor Pradesh for the rest of my life. However short or long that turned out to be.

We’re all riddled with holes, and there were days when I would’ve done anything to patch mine, if just for a while.