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From knowledge comes vengeance.
I need to be able to touch the dark without being consumed by it.
I twist in Ellis’s arms to press my face against her shoulder, and she lets me cry, patting my head and murmuring soft, meaningless phrases as my tears and snot dampen her starched shirt collar.
I want to memorize the warmth of her skin, the way her eyes sparkle like smoke quartz when she laughs.

