“I dressed in my bedroom, tugging on a pair of jeans, T-shirt, and heavy brown sweater that I’d picked up at a thrift store and loved down to holes.”

“Oh, I was so not a wilting flower. I’d let a man pick me up and carry me because I couldn’t handle the price of using magic when I was dead. Again.”

“Dad pressed against my mind. Please, Allison. Let me, just this once, hold my son. I shouldn't. Nothing good ever came from letting my father have his way. But I could feel his love for this baby. And even if he couldn't love me, I knew that at this moment, before the baby could grow up and become a disappointment to him, he truly loved him. I slowly stepped away from the front of my mind, letting him fill that space, letting him feel through my hands, see through my eyes. "He's amazing," Dad said through me. "You're amazing." He looked up at Violet, and she smiled.”

“…Keep your magic to yourself, missy.”“Like I’d want my magic mixing with yours anyway.”

“So, the date was on. I’d tell Zayvion I had a chaperone. Maybe he could help me figure it out.”

“My voice rose up and up with each question, even though I didn’t want it to. It’s called panic. I’m good at it.”

“We’re a lot alike that way. You know I never back down from a challenge.” He reached over, brushed my hair back, and tucked it behind my ear. “Not the safest way to go through life.” “Maybe not. But it’s my way.”