“I want to break something, or hit something, but I am afraid to move, so I start crying instead.”

“I want to cry because something terrible happened, and I saw it, and I could not see a way to mend it.”

“Maybe I was afraid to trust him with something so personal as my devotion.”

“I should probably be afraid. But instead a hysterical laugh bubbles inside me, because I just remembered something: Maybe I can’t hold a gun. But I have a knife in my back pocket.”

“I try to think of something helpful to say. I'm not going to die -- but I don't know that. We live in a dangerous world, and I am not so attached to life that I will do anything to survive. I can't reassure him.”

“I love you," I say.I said that once, before I went to Erudite headquarters, but he was asleep then. I don't know why I didn't say it when he could hear it. Maybe I was afraid to trust him with something so personal as my devotion. Or afraid that I did not know what it was to love someone. But now I think the scary thing was not saying it before it was too late. Not saying it before it was almost too late for me.”

“I stare at him. I feel my heartbeat everywhere, even in my toes. I feel like doing something bold, but I could just as easily walk away. I am not sure which option is smarter, or better. I am not sure that I care.”