“I suppose it doesn't matter how they get out. All that matters is they do. And when they do, they must be found. They must go back.”

“Let them think you a demon or a god,” she said. “Let them fear you. It does not matter.”“It matters a great deal to me,” he snapped.”

“My heart sinks. I guess I should be glad he doesn’t care, but I’m not. He’s supposed to care. Mom cares so much, it’s smothering; but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to do this, to check out. And suddenly I need him to care. I need him to give me something so I know he’s still here, still Dad.”

“And that’s when I realize how tired I am, of lies and omissions and half-truths. I put Wes in danger, but he’s still here—and if he’s willing to brave this chaos with me, then he deserves to know what I know. And I’m about to speak, about to tell him that, tell him everything, when he brings his hand to the back of my neck, pulls me forward, and kisses me. The noise floods in. I don’t push back, don’t block it out, and for one moment, all I can think is that he tastes like summer rain. His lips linger on mine, urgent and warm. Lasting.”

“We’re a team, Mac,” he says. “We’ll get through this.” “Which part?” I ask. He smiles. “All of it.” And I smile back, because I want him to be right.”

“You really are like him, your father.""I can't tell whether you think that's good or bad.""What does it matter? It's simply true.”

“It wouldn’t bring her back.” “I know. Trust me, I do. And I would have done far worse,” he says, “if I’d thought there was a way to bring Regina back. I would have traded places. I would have sold souls. I would have torn this world apart. I would have done anything, broken any rule, just to bring her back.”