Lords of Wrath (Royals of Forsyth University, #2)

by Angel Lawson

When I was a kid, Ms. Crane used to say that every life is a patchwork quilt assembled from our hurts and joys, and it always stuck with me—a square on my very own blanket of bullshit. I used to think of it like that, as if every person had their squares, all fused together to form the fabric of who they’d become, and no two could ever look alike. I know mine is ugly and tattered and frayed, not fit for covering anything except my own fucked up insides.