“The guaranteed cure for heartbreak: find pain that’s much, much worse.”
“It's funny. Friendships are Catch twenty-twos when you're single and in your thirties. Friends are your life rafts. You try to help each other meet people, you confide in each other, you spend Thanksgiving, Valentine's Day, all those emotional land-mine holidays together. But sooner or later one of you is going to meet someone and be gone into the world of couples.”
“I’m just–” She wanted to say “not in the mood,” but that was not only a cliché but a vast understatement. She was dead.”
“Why was it so unlikely that you could meet your soul mate by hitting her with your vehicle? Why was it more likely you’d meet her at your cousin’s wedding?”
“The mind always found its way back to baseline.”
“The profile’s the key, the absolute key to modern dating. If you can get quality people to look at your profile, it becomes a numbers game. The more views, the more hits. The more hits, the more the odds climb that you’ll find a compatible mate.”
“She had nine hundred thirty-one viewers at the moment. Another sixty-nine, and sponsorships would kick in.”
“Because I don’t really want to fall in love. Nathan is safe because he’s unattainable.”
“This is the future,” Lycan said. “Connecting people to each other directly.”
“Right leg gone? Her right leg? She couldn’t see anything except the man hanging over and a gold-coloured ceiling, high, high above. “This is a hospital?” she asked.
“No, no. A dating centre.”
“What?" The dread in her tone told Rob she knew what. "How much longer?"
"Thirty seconds."
She laughed with a panicked urgency. "I just tried to nod. I can't feel my body, but I keep reaching for it, you know?"
Rob nodded, feeling guilty he was able to.
"How about this? I'll just tell you when I'm nodding, or shaking my head, or punching you."
"Oh, no," Rob laughed, "are you planning on punching me often?"
"We'll see."
Rob couldn't help glancing at the timer, though he knew it would only make Winter more aware of what was about to happen. Seven seconds.
"I keep expecting this to get easier, taht it will start to feel as if I'm going to sleep. But it doesn't. Maybe it's not possible to get used to dying."
Rob reached out to comfort her, then remembered it was forbidden and drew back. If not for the surveillance, Rob would have reached under the silver cover and taken her hand, cold and stiff as it would have been.”
“People need space; families need air; love needs light. Like Mrs. Anastagio always said, ―You need enough rooms to love someone properly.”
“Our sole responsibility is to produce something smarter than we are; any problems beyond that are not ours to solve …”
“We both look up as Katherine, Connor, and Dad enter the kitchen. Kiernan tries to be polite and stand, but I’m on the outside of the bench, and the table has him wedged in, so the most he can manage is a half crouch, which looks terribly uncomfortable.
I grab the back of his shirt and tug him back down to the bench. “Dad, Connor, this is Kiernan. Katherine, you’ve already met.”
“He’s changed quite a bit in the past thirteen years, however,” she says. “And I suspect that I’ve changed even more in the past five decades.”
Kiernan returns her smile. “It’s good to see you again.”
Dad steps forward and shakes Kiernan’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“My privilege, Mr. Keller.”
“It’s Harry, please. You saved my daughter’s life, so I think we can dispense with the formalities.”
I’ve rarely seen Kiernan blush, but he does now, and then he nods. “Harry, then. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Connor follows Dad’s lead and steps forward to take Kiernan’s hand. “I’m Connor Dunne. And you can call me Mr. Dunne.”
There’s a slight twinkle in Connor’s eye, so I think he’s joking. But whether he meant it that way or not, Kiernan laughs.
“The hell I will, sonny boy. You need to show your elders the proper respect, or I’ll take you behind the barn and give you a good strapping.”
Connor snorts. “No barn, and I’d love to see you try.”
“If your faith is so shaky that it can be undermined by books that challenge it, then something is rotten at the core.”
“Cecile made it sound like it was no big deal. "I've been fighting for freedom all my life." But she wasn't talking about protest signs, standing up to the Man, and knowing your rights. She was talking about her life. Just her. Not the people.”
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