The Darkest Part of the Forest

by Holly Black

Once normal had been a heavy, smothering blanket she feared being trapped beneath. But now normal felt fragile, as though she could unravel it all just by teasing out a single string.

He wanted to know how she managed to pretend bad stuff wasn’t really that bad, managed to pretend it so hard that sometimes Ben thought he was crazy for remembering.

And although she hadn’t imagined she could be more humiliated, it turned out that no matter how far you fall, there’s always a lower place.

Leaning over, not speaking, he brought his mouth to hers. For a wild moment she wondered if he wanted her. Her and not just this.

And then Hazel understood. Ben was taking her through the storm of grief. He was singing her through the rage and despair. He was singing her through the terrible loneliness, because there was no way to shut off grief, no way to cast it aside or fight against it. The only way to end grief was to go through it.