“I know it hurts,” she said. “So make it worth the pain.” “How?” “By not letting go,” she said softly. “By holding on, to anger, or hope, or whatever it is that keeps you fighting.” You, he thought. And for once, a word felt simple, because Kate was the one who kept him fighting, who looked at him and saw him, and saw through him at the same time, and who never let go.
