“Who was that?” I whispered, as if the walls could hear me. They were lined with pictures, a few of which I recognized as being painted by master painters.“Rhys.”“Yeah, I know but… is he my brother?” I asked. I had already decided that he was foxy, so I really hoped that he wasn‟t.”

“What are you doing here, Luce?" he asked, studying me. "Watching you play," I answered, knowing it wasan't one he'd accept. "Yeah," he said, making a face. "That's not going to work for me." Of course it wasn't. "You know why," I added with a whisper. "I need to hear you say it," he said, swallowing. "I've gone too many days without hearing it." Sighing, I closed my eyes. "I love you," I said, knowing it was the truth and that it didn't change anything. "And I missed you." "Yeah," he said, "me too.”

“Then I realized he didn't know who I was. Part of me relaxed, because if they were playing for Team Evil, I was sure they would have pictures of my face plastered across their bedroom walls.”

“I decided to go along with it. If he tried to give me the runaround, I would bolt. I didn't have time to waste on vague answers and evasive language. Matt and Rhys were captive, and Rhys couldn't even sit down.”

“The only person I knew how to be with now was myself - but I wasn´t really anyone, and I wasn´t really alive. I was just someone who pretended to be alive, a dead mean who spent his days translating a dead man´s book.”

“I am sorry I didn’t tell you the truth before. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to. You kept asking about Romeo and what he was really like. I was hoping that”—he smiled wistfully—“you would recognize me.”