“Why does she always seem to think you drive like we're holding up a bank?"Roswell grinned and rolled his eyes, "Because that's what teenagers do, right? They also carve swastikas into their arms, steal prescription drugs from old people, and freebase cocaine. I need to institute a policy where she stops watching 60 Minutes and pretty much all public service announcements.”

“I couldn't work out what she actually wanted. Whether being dead happened in a pretty box on Welsh Street or someplace else, it didn't make a difference. Dead was irreversible. It was permanent. You couldn't do anything about it, and still, Tate seemed determined to take it back, like with the right answer, she could fix everything.”

“Lillian laughs and rolls her eyes. “Do I look like I know the answer to that? I always just locked on to the target and then followed it all the way down.”

“I looked at the ground and the dark, drizzling sky and pretty much anyplace that wasn't her. "I like you. A lot." When I finally glanced at her, my face was hot and it was hard to keep looking.She squinted up at me. Then she crossed her arms. "This is a really inappropriate place to be having this conversation.""I know. I like you anyway."Saying it a third time was like breaking some kind of spell. Her face went soft and far away."Don't say that unless you mean it.""I don't say anything I don't mean.”

“Lillian was always so good at treating everything like a test, like some kind of game where the prize was shiny and untouchable. Perfection. She wanted me to back off, butt out, stop trying to control her life. And she wanted me to save her.”

“They?" he said, sounding apprehensive."Me. They're like me.""Don't be a jackass," Roswell said, but not meanly. "No one's like you.”

“All I want is for you to stand here and watch the people you love be horribly mutilated. Is that too much to ask?”