Powerless (Chestnut Springs, #3)

by Elsie Silver

He’s always been my gentle giant. Tall, quiet, and good down to the marrow of his bones.

“That’s probably what you tell all the girls, Gervais.” “Nah, Sunny. You’re my only girl.”

I’m grumpy and miserable. The world is dark, but she’s like the moon when we sat on the roof. Bright and pure, shedding a silvery light over everything so that I can still see where I’m going.

And if I’ve figured out anything in this Shakespearean tragedy of a life, it’s that life is just moments all strung together like multicolor Christmas lights. You always end up liking some colors better than others.

“I’ve spent years getting lost in your eyes, Sloane. The rest of you though? It’s all new. I imagine this is what going to Disneyland for the first time is like. Overstimulating.”

“Does Cinderella have an ass like this? Because unless she does I’m not interested.”

I’m finally living for myself and feeling empowered about it.

The rest of it makes me realize how powerless I’ve been trained to be my entire life. It stirs an unfamiliar rage inside of me, one that keeps me from answering any of my dad’s phone calls.

“You’re both settled. Figured out what counts in life. It’s the people. Not the things. Not the acclaim. The people.”