“Can’t these people leave me alone? Like first her husband approaches me out of nowhere asking about my purple vegetable, then I figure out he is the substitute teacher for the day I am late and in the end, I get whipped in front of the class, and finally they move in across from me and his wife needs sugar?”

“I’m lost. And it’s my own fault. It’s about time I figured out that I can’t ask people to keep me found.”

“I finally figured out that I’m solitary by nature, but at the same time I know so many people; so many people think they own a piece of me. They shift and move under my skin, like a parade of memories that simply won’t go away. It doesn’t matter where I am, or how alone--I always have such a crowded head.”

“I feel like any second you're going to figure out what a piece of shit I am and leave me.”

“The man sitting across from me at the cafe was thinking about murdering his wife. He imagined stabbing her and pretending like it was a robbery. Or perhaps, he thought, he'd take her hiking, push her off a cliff and say it was an accident; that she'd slipped. I wanted to tell him it wouldn't work, that in those CSI shows on T.V. they always suspected the husband first.”

“I can’t stop it. I can’t stop Them from following me. If it was just me that the fey picked on, I’d be okay with that. But someone else always pays for my Sight. Someone else always gets hurt instead of me.” Tearing my gaze from hers, I looked out over the fields. “I’d rather be alone,” I muttered, “then to have to watch that again.”