But before I can leave, I take a step in his direction, lowering myself into a squat so that I am now looking up at him. “You can try to convince me in every way possible that you don’t have a heart,” I say softly. “But I don’t give up. And if there is a heart somewhere in there—” My hand reaches out, touching the center of his chest. He stiffens like drying concrete, dark-mahogany eyes fixed on my fingers. “I’ll find it. I’ll be the first to find it.”
