Everything about Wesley Ayers is messy. My three worlds are kept apart by walls and doors and locks, and yet here he is, tracking the Archive into my life like mud. I know what Da would say, I know, I know, I know. But the strange new overlap is scary and messy and welcome. I can be careful.
Victoria SchwabA confession: I am not a good friend. Lyndsey writes letters, Lyndsey makes calls. Lyndsey makes plans. Everything I do is in reaction to everything she does, and I’m terrified of the day she decides not to pick up the phone, not to take the first step. I’m terrified of the day Lyndsey outgrows my secrets, my ways. Outgrows me.
Victoria SchwabIt takes at least three assassination attempts to scare me off. And even then, if there are baked goods involved, I might come back.
Victoria SchwabMy 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.
Victoria SchwabFour years of service, and the Archive is still so full of secrets—some big, like altering; some small, like this. The more of them I learn, the more I realize how little I know, and the more I wonder about the things I have been told. The rules I have been taught.
Victoria SchwabA death is traumatic. Vivid enough to mark any surface, to burn in like light on photo paper.
Victoria SchwabI just want to know if you’re okay,” he says, so soft I barely hear it through the static.
I’m not, not at all; but his worry gives me the strength I need to lie. To pull back and smile and tell him I’m fine.
You, Mackenzie Bishop,” he says as we hit the landing, “have been a very bad girl.”
“How so?”
He rounds the banister at the base of the staircase. “You involved me in a lie! Don’t think I didn’t catch it.
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.
More of a cookie person, myself. No offense to the other baked goods. I just like cookies.
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