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544 pages, Paperback
First published June 13, 2017
Because she knew a secret: there were two kinds of monsters, the kind that hunted the streets and the kind that lived in your head. She could fight the first, but the second was more dangerous. It was always, always, always a step ahead.
The air smelled like blood and panic as she forced herself toward the restaurant, toward the massacre, toward the chaos.
And there, in the middle of it all, so still she almost didn’t see it, stood a monster.
People were messy. They were defined not only by what they’d done, but by what they would have done, under different circumstances, molded as much by their regrets as their actions, choices they stood by and those they wished they could undo. Of course, there was no going back—time only moved forward—but people could change.
For worse.
And for better.
Funny, she thought, that even monsters had fragile hearts.
Out in the Waste stood a home, abandoned.
A place where a girl had grown up, and a boy had burned
alive, where a violin had been shattered, and a
stranger had been shot-
And a new monster had been born.
She stood in the house, the dead man at her feet, stepped
over his body, wandered out into the yard, drew in fresh air as the sun went down.
And started walking
“There were two kinds of monsters, the kind that hunted the streets and the kind that lived in your head.”
me: hey let's not get attached to any of these characters ok
me @ me, three secs later: i think the fuck not you trick ass bitch
©
"The world was complicated. Life was hard. And so often, living hurt. So make it worth the pain."