Before She Disappeared (Frankie Elkin, #1)

by Lisa Gardner

People all over really are the same. They want to fall in love. They’re glad to survive each day. They pray their children will have a better life than they did. These truths bind us. At least I like to think so.

Funny, the things you can grow up not wanting, then suddenly crave with single-minded obsession.

So many think we must share the same beliefs to get along. In my experience, sharing the same fear is a far more effective strategy.

If clothes are camouflage, then scars are exclamation points of honesty.

Sometimes my blood flows too close to my skin. I can feel my own nerve endings spark and snap, the pressure building in my chest.

One precious moment when I’m no longer trapped inside my own head. Knowing things I don’t want to know. Remembering things I don’t want to remember. Worrying about things I can’t change.

I listen to him breathe. And it’s like knives flaying my skin. The sense of déjà vu. The harsh knowledge that this is the only way I know how to connect.