“Now he would always be part of her. She just didn't know it yet.”

“She'd always known he didn't love her. But it was easier to bear when he didn't know she loved him. That way they were even. Now he knew he had all the power.”

“Gregori moved immediately to the spiral staircase. He could feel her, knew unerringly the exact spot where she waited. He didn't need to scan for Savannah; his body would always find her, his mind would always know her location.”

“She was still there inside me now, just as she always was: a life put on hold, a memory I didn't know how to handle.”

“He was dead. He just didn't know it yet.”

“She had always known under her mind and now she confessed it: her agony had been, half of it, because one day he would say farewell to her, like that, with the inflexion of a verb. As, just occasionally, using the work “we” - and perhaps without intention - he had let her know that he loved her.”