I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.
I wash myself clean of guilt, of pain, of fear, of emotion. I am the ocean. I am empty. I am nothing.
I am a girl in want of complete destruction.
I think happy thoughts and feel happy things and I do not let myself near the swirling black edges of the hole that is my soul when I look at them.
James is all I have. I chose James. He has to be right. Please let him be right.
I chose him. If I chose him, he had to be the right choice. I wouldn’t love him if it weren’t right.
We change the future with every choice we make,
Cole gets up and then says, “Adam. Five texts. I can read them to you.” He pauses. “Unless they’re personal.” I roll my eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m pretty sure he’s desperately in love with my sister.” Cole ...
I have to trust that, or I’ll lose my mind. Well, lose it more.
Probably you should stay out of my head. It’s not a friendly place.
Crazy must run in your family,” he says. “You do know Fia!” I blurt, then bite my lip.
This is the tragedy of knowing my fate: I have seen how it ends, and I will walk right into it, and nothing will change.
Clinical, brilliantly medical-minded Adam believes in fate. A fate with Fia.
Am I giving you a headache? I think. “You are a headache.
I like her. The pixie is going to be my friend. I know it like I know I’m not going to see Mr. Keane today. I will be her friend, while plotting to either betray her if she’s untrustworthy for the company, or be betrayed by her if I slip up and s...
I lie constantly. All the time. I’m nothing but one big mass of lies.
I’m still afraid to sleep—too many ghosts peering creeping condemning.
