My Name's Jet Steele.

Ooh. Top Secret Angel Business, Huh? What’re You Going To Do? Dance On A Pinhead? Lobby For National Cute Puppy Day?

Can You Come Over To Amberwood? I Need You To Help Me Break Curfew And Escape My Dorm.” There Were A Few Moments Of Silence. “sage, I’ve Been Waiting Two Months To Hear You Say Those Words. You Want Me To Bring A Ladder?

I Didn’t Get Her Cutting At All. She’d Done It Sporadically, Ever Since The Accident And It Scared Me Each Time. She'd Try To Explain It To Me, How She Didn't Want To Die—she Just Needed To Get It Out Somehow. She Felt So Much Emotionally, She Would Say, That A Physical Outlet—physical Pain—was The Only Way To Make The Internal Pain Go Away. It Was The Only Way She Could Control It.

Dmitri Was At A Total Loss. It Was A Common Reaction For People When I Agreed To Do Something Reasonable.

Everyone Wanted What She Couldn't Have.