Jesse stirs again. This time his fingers twitch. As much as I want to see him open his eyes, I can’t be here for that. It’ll make leaving him too hard. I turn toward the doorway, and I’m outside in the main room of the ICU when I hear his weakened voice say, “Winter?” I hurry back to the waiting area. Hopefully he’ll think he dreamed me. Maybe he did. Sometimes I feel like I’m not even real anymore

— Paula Stokes

Killing someone is different in practice than it is in theory. There are factors you can’t prepare for, feelings at the moment where you’ll question everything you thought you knew about yourself, other feelings that might follow you long after the deed is done.

— Paula Stokes

Maybe I could dole out the truth in tiny pieces that, once assembled, would make a picture that resembled a reality in which I hadn’t done anything wrong.

— Paula Stokes

Monsters don’t get happy endings.

— Paula Stokes

My name is Winter Kim. Today I killed a man. Soon I hope to kill another.

— Paula Stokes

No,” Gideon says. “No guns. The most dangerous weapon you have is your brain. Give someone a gun and they tend to quit using it.

— Paula Stokes

Nothing stings quite like an unanswered text message.

— Paula Stokes

Not sure how you can get them to him without looking like a crazy stalker chick," Micah says." You think I'm a crazy stalker chick?"" You're using an ancient war manual to try to win back your boyfriend. I think you're a girl who will do whatever it takes to get what she wants," he says. "Hey, at least you're committed.

— Paula Stokes

Once I accepted the fact that I was bad luck, I shied away from group activities. And groups. And activities. I started spending a lot of time in my room, tucked under my covers reading books. There’s only so much damage a book can do, and I wasn’t worried about hurting myself. Accidentally hurting yourself is way better than hurting other people. Sure, I got lonely for a while. But getting invited slumbering parties just wasn’t worth the stress of wondering if I might accidentally burn down the house with my flat iron or be the only survivor of a freak sleepover massacre. And loneliness is just like everything else—if you endure it long enough, you get used to it.

— Paula Stokes

Our “protective bubbles”—our houses, our cars, our friends, our online identities—might make us feel secure, but most of it’s just an illusion. It’s easy to get hurt, just like it’s easy to hurt other people.

— Paula Stokes