“except for the muffled strum of her fingers against metal, the house is still, quiet, but then she hears another sound, this one coming from deep within. a numbing furrow slides through her soul, sliding into her brain, a furrow that seperates one part of her heart from the other. and then it goes quiet agani. ”

“but she still burns. she is on fire with need. burning that goes deeper than her skin, etched deeply, maybe in her soul, and there seems to be nothing for it, no balm, save inching her arms up to hold herself and wishin the arms weren't her own. ”

“she whispers it aloud, 'lorelei.' the sound makes her ache, makes the word even more beautiful, even more real. ”

“My memory is coming back. It is curious how it comes. Each day, a rush of pieces, loosely connected, unimportant bits, snake through me. They click, click, click into my brain, like links being snapped together. And then they are done. A small chain of memories that fill in one tiny part of my life. They come out of nowhere, and most are not important.”

“There is something about her eyes. Eyes don't breathe. I know that much. But hers look breathless.”

“abuelita speaks no english. she doesn't need to, zoe thinks. her smile fills and communicates so much more than the empty, half-said words of zoe's life. ”

“Eyes don't breath. I know that much. But her eyes look breathless”