Lost in the Moment and Found (Wayward Children, #8)

by Seanan McGuire

She had the vague feeling that sometimes good things were only as good as they were because all the pieces had managed to line up just so, and if you took any of them away, it wouldn’t be good anymore. Maybe not good at all.

“My mother believed him because he was better than me, and believing me would have been believing a bad girl who told bad lies about good people.” “I don’t think that’s true, Antsy,” said Vineta. “You’re a child. If an adult hurt you, that’s on them, not on you. Being bruised doesn’t make you bad, unless you’re a peach, and even a bruised peach is good for making jam.”

“Travel can be hard,” he said. “It wears on the heart, even when it’s done on purpose, and there’s always a cost and a consequence.

Only the ones who aren’t made right for the worlds where they started out need Doors. All children may want them—who doesn’t want a grand adventure? But needing and wanting aren’t the same, and the Doors can see the difference. Some children need to escape from places that will only hurt them, or grind them away until they’re nothing. And some children need to go somewhere else if they’re ever going to grow into the people they were meant to be. The Doors choose carefully.”

It’s easy to go along with a system. It’s harder to create one. You have to choose it, over and over, when you’re building it.