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There were not enough deep breaths in the world to keep a leash on Zoya’s anger.
“Spontaneity.” David nodded thoughtfully and drew out a journal to make note of this latest instruction. “I’ll be ready next time.”
in the fatigue of fighting, running, learning to disassemble and reassemble guns, climb walls and scamper along rooftops, her mind finally quieted. And in that silence she heard the music of combat at last.
If you would try, if you would be willing to fail, you would learn. It’s good to do things you’re not good at.”
“Beauty of all kinds is a weapon.”
She was impossible and vain, bitter and poisonous as yewberries. She was brave. It didn’t add up to much.
“I loved him and he loved me.” Was there any greater gift than that? Any more unlikely discovery in this world?
Grief and love were one and the same. Grief was the shadow love left when it was gone.
we’ve never had a proper fight. Because we never trusted the love we had to carry us through.
She stood up on her toes and planted a kiss on Hanne’s lips. “Never let me go.”
Zoya’s mother had been wrong. It wasn’t love that had ruined her, it was the death of it. She’d believed that love would do the work of living. She’d let the thread fray and snap.
