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502 pages, Hardcover
First published September 15, 2020
Did Clary ever have to think about the dangers of being picked up by police while at a party?
Would Jude ever have been questioned about the legitimacy of her presence at an Early College program?
When America was selected as Maxon鈥檚 queen (disclaimer: I鈥檓 just pulling this out of a hunch, I never got past book 1 lol), did his people ever hurl racial slurs at her?
鈥淒on鈥檛 make your life about the loss. Make it about the love.鈥�
"Some truths only tragedy can teach. The first one I learned is that when people acknowledge your pain, they want your pain to acknowledge them back. They need to witness it in real time, or else you鈥檙e not doing your part."
鈥淭ypical anger can hinder or help. But the kind that burns in your gut? That鈥檚 fury. And fury is meant to be used.鈥�
鈥淚鈥檓 a daughter whose mother was taken from her.
Acceptance, I decide, is for people whose parents just died with no reason. True accidents or illness. Acceptance is not possible for murder.鈥�
"Where do we begin?"
"At the beginning."
鈥淟ove is a powerful thing, more powerful than blood, although both run through us like a river.鈥�
鈥淎nd then I鈥檓 in the air, leaving the earth and trees far behind me.鈥�
鈥淏ut when your entire world is shattering, a little bit of magic is鈥� nothing.鈥�
鈥淚 don鈥檛 cry for my mother鈥檚 death. Or for myself. I cry because these strangers in the hospital鈥攖he nurse, the doctor, the police officer鈥攄on鈥檛 know my mother, and yet they were closest to her when she died. And when your people die, you have to listen to strangers speak your nightmare into existence.鈥�
鈥淲ho鈥檚 the literary nerd? The quoter or the one who recognizes the quote?鈥�
鈥淢y father says focus is death鈥檚 most precious gift.鈥�
鈥淒eath doesn鈥檛 give gifts.鈥�
鈥淏ecause death breaks our connection! I want to scream. Death is not a thread. It is the sharp cut that severs us. Death separates us from one another, and yet it holds us close. As deeply as we hate it, it loves us more鈥�
鈥淔or the first time, I wonder if maybe Sel鈥檚 right and I am born of shadows. Or maybe those shadows aren鈥檛 who I am, but I keep finding my way to them anyway.鈥�
鈥淗e can鈥檛 be more than eighteen, but something about his features doesn鈥檛 belong to a teenager鈥攖he cut of his jaw, the line of his nose. His stillness.鈥�
鈥淭his boy is not part of the plan. Not the beginning, middle, or anywhere in between.鈥�
鈥淗ow does this boy navigate my emotions like a seasoned sailor, finding the clear skies and bringing them closer, when all I seem able to do is hold fast to the storms?鈥�
鈥淵ou鈥檙e not a damsel to me, Bree. You鈥檙e a warrior. You鈥檙e strong and you鈥檙e beautiful and you鈥檙e brilliant and brave.鈥�
鈥淵ou are remarkable.鈥�
鈥淕rowing up Black in the South, it鈥檚 pretty common to find yourself in old places that just鈥� weren鈥檛 made for you. Maybe it鈥檚 a building, a historic district, or a street. Some space that was originally built for white people and white people only, and you just have to hold that knowledge while going about your business. (...) You gain an awareness. Learn to hear the low buzzing sound of exclusion. A sound that says, We didn鈥檛 build this for you. We built it for us. This is ours, not yours.鈥�