More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
A nerve in her eyebrow was about to start twitching—she could feel it.
“I know you’re mad at me. Stay mad if you want. But I promise you, I’m not the worst thing haunting this school.”
There weren’t enough adjectives in the English language to describe him. Incredulous, presumptuous, pretentious.
“Este, dear, is everything okay?” “Don’t call me that anymore,” she snarled. “Don’t call me anything anymore.”
Maybe sepia-toned nostalgia was its own type of haunting. The ache of missing something you could never have again.
the fading remnants of the ivy blossoms in a Tibetan singing bowl she bought at a hippie town in Arkansas.
Eureka springs what are you doing here??
“It’s not a big deal,” Este said as calmly as possible. Which was admittedly not very calmly.
She’d assumed that if no one could be hers forever, they didn’t need to be hers at all.
“There’s no glory in trying to do everything on your own.”
Este smiled when she said yes. She kissed him, warm and sweet and soft, and she’d keep kissing him until their hair grayed, until their skin wrinkled, until dust gathered on the bookshelves. Eventually, they’d become nothing more than sun-faded ink, a final line in her favorite story, one she was no longer afraid to write.
