My Name is Mary Sutter (Mary Sutter #1)

by Robin Oliveira

“I want to understand everything,” she said. “Isn’t it all connected? Isn’t the body a system? How can I understand a part if I do not understand the whole?” Mary recognized Blevens’s look:

This was a family adjusted to whatever losses it had sustained.

No one had ever told her that grief was a leveling of all emotion, that life would stretch before you, colorless and endless, devoid of any hope.

It was the unwritten rule of assembling armies that a third of their population would be lost to disease within the first month.

Mothers assumed that having put their feet down, their daughters would comply, while daughters, pretending to have listened, made secret plans.

Grief was such an avid stalker, surprising him when he least expected it.