As Good As Dead

Who will look for you when you’re the one who disappears?

She wanted to go back. SHe wanted to run to him, fall into him, be Team Ravi and Pip and nothing more. Tell him she loved him in all the secret ways they had, hear him speak all those names he had for her in his butter-soft voice.

She still spoke to Ravi every day. Not the real one, the one who lived in her head. She spoke to him when she was scared or unsure, asked him what he would do if he were there. He sat beside her when she was lonely, and she was always lonely, looking at old photos on her phone. He told her goodnight and kept her company in the dark while she learned how to sleep again.

if it's a choice between me and you, i choose you

You're my person. My little one. My Sarge. And I'm supposed to protect you.

You're Pippa Fricking Fitz-Amo-bi. My little Sarge. Pippus Maximus, and there's nothing you can't do.

Pip looked back, over her shoulder, through the trees. Ravi was on his knees in the leaves, face hidden, bawling into his hands. It hurt more than anything, to see him that way, and her chest opened up, reaching out to him, trying to drive her back. Hold him, take the hurt away and let him take hers.

Our dad killed your boyfriend's older brother and kept a girl in his loft for five years. You have yourself two experts at acting normal.

It’s just...’ he drew off, his voice guttering out. ‘It’s scary, to know that someone might want to hurt you, or make you scared. You’re my person. My little one. My Sarge. And I’m supposed to protect you.’ ‘You do protect me,’ she said, holding his eyes. ‘Even when you’re not here.’ He was her life raft, her cornerstone for what good truly meant. Didn’t he know that?

You are the maximum amount of Pipness that any Pip could be. The Ultra-Pip. I’m going to introduce you to my family this weekend as Pippus Maximus

You’ve lost your mind,’ he sneered.‘Maybe. So you should be terrified.

Hey, Nat, do you think it's at all possible that your brother is a serial killer? Yes, I know, I have a history of accusing you and your family members of murder.

Her judgement day would come, but for now, Pip walked and she promised. That's all. One foot in front of the other, even if she had to drag them, even when the hole in her heart felt too big to keep standing. She walked and she promised and he was with her, Ravi's fingers slotting in between hers in the way they used to fit, fingertips in the dips of her knuckles.

Is it normal for one person to have this many enemies? I’m the problem, aren’t I?How did it get so late already?I understand why they all hate me.I might hate me too.

The game had changed.Her against them.Save herself to save herself.

time? An impossible contradiction that she would never settle. It was her undoing, her fatal flaw, the hill she would die and decay on.

Jason Bell was dead, but he wasn’t dead yet; he would be in a few hours. And Max Hastings would be the one who killed him. Finally locked away where he belonged.

You did this!” he screamed in her face, spit flying. “You did this somehow!” He pushed harder, grating Pip’s head against the brick. She didn’t fight him off; her hands were free but she didn’t push him away. She flashed her eyes back and whispered quietly, so only Max could hear: “You’re lucky I didn’t put you in the ground too.

Written on the sidewalk on my running route. ‘Dead Girl Walking.’

Why hadn't she ever stopped to think how lucky she was? All those people who cared about her, whether she deserved them or not.

destiny moves in mysterious ways, doesn’t it? Binding us together all the way back then.

He caught her staring: at the fall of his dark hair, at the dimpled line in his chin where her little finger fit, at his dark eyes and the flame dancing inside them from her mom's new Autumn Spice candle. His eyes were always bright somehow, dazzling, like from within. Ravi Singh was the opposite of dead- eyed. The antidote. Pip needed him to remind herself of that sometimes. So she watched him, took him all in, left none of him behind.

How did everything go with you?” Pip asked, leaning forward to press her forehead against his, in the way he always did to her. To take on half her headaches, or half her nerves, he said.

Three different stories, but one interconnected knot.

Well,’ Pip smiled, ‘I’m still me.’ She hoped that was true.