"What is it with you today?” says Christina on the way to breakfast. Her eyes are stillswollen from sleep and her tangled hair forms a fuzzy halo around her face.“Oh, you know,” I say. “Sun shining. Birds chirping.”She raises an eyebrow at me, as if reminding me that we are in an undergroundtunnel."
"Fear doesn't shut you down; it wakes you up. I've seen it. It's fascinating."He releases me but doesn't pull away, his hand grazing my jaw, my neck. "Sometimes I just...want to see it again. Want to see you awake."
"I breathe in. The water will wash my wounds clean. I breathe out. My mother submerged me in water when I was a baby, to give me to God. It has been a long time since I thought about God, but I think about him now. It is only natural. I am glad, suddenly, that I shot Eric in the foot instead of the head."
"Who cares about pretty? I'm going for noticeable."
"That is death - shifting from "is"to "was."
"Moths,"repeats Will. "You're afraid of moths?""Not just a cloud of moths,"she says, "like...a swarm of them. Everywhere. All those wings and legs and..."She shudders and shakes her head."Terrifying,"Will says with mock seriousness. "That's my girl. Tough as cotton balls.""Oh, Shut up."