“Devon had been so lonely, so terribly lonely, for so long. The kind of lonely that sears, that burrows its way deep inside a heart and throbs. Like a gnawing hunger.” — Amy Efaw Copy Share Image
“Devon had been so lonely, so terribly lonely, for so long. The kind of lonely that sears, that burrows its way deep inside a… — Amy Efaw Copy Share Image
“The woman types everything into her computer, raising her eyebrows slightly at Devon's middle name. "Devon Sky Davenport," she repeats. "Sky? S-k-y?" "Yes," Devon… — Amy Efaw Copy Share Image
“Devon stares at him standing there, remembering the only other guy had ever opened a car door for her. Last summer. The sky was… — Amy Efaw Copy Share Image
“Just because you don't say much doesn't mean people don't notice you. It's actually the quiet ones who often draw the most attention. There's… — Amy Efaw Copy Share Image
“My mind/a twist of clutter/ as i lie in bed imagining my life/ I watch the shadows on the ceiling./Memories sail across my eyes.… — Amy Efaw Copy Share Image
“She had crept away from his bed, leaving him asleep across the jumbled sheets. She'd closed the bathroom door softly behind her. Standing naked… — Amy Efaw Copy Share Image
“Her keeper jersey; she thinks of it now. The number 1 on its back. A lonely number. Only one goalkeeper on the field. Only… — Amy Efaw Copy Share Image
“Sir... I... don't want... to... be... here," I said between sobs. There, I'd said it. Now everyone would be happy- Cadet Daily, my mother...… — Amy Efaw Copy Share Image
“Devon? Are you okay?" For the first time, Dom's voice sounds unsure. Devon sats nothing, not one word. She pushes herself up. She slides… — Amy Efaw Copy Share Image
“She can paint a lovely picture, but this story has a twist. her paintbrush is a razor, and her canvas is her wrist.” — Amy Efaw Copy Share Image
“She can paint a pretty picture but this story has a twist. The paintbrush is a razor and the canvas is her wrist.” — Amy Efaw Copy Share Image
