UNSUB

But fate was a myth constructed by fools—people who gamble or follow horoscopes, who believe the stars rule their lives.

A shiver climbed Caitlin’s arms. She hated having a doorway behind her. Even though the team had cleared the hall, a door always felt like a hungry mouth at her back. And the window opened to darkness. To anyone outside, she and Marston were brightly lit targets.

Seas was the one who'd urged her to tattoo the scars she'd cut with the razor blade. the serpent- sign of transformation and healing. The quote, from Rita Dove's poem "Dawn Revisited." About second chances. The whole sky is yours to write on, blown open

Are you stalking me?” Caitlin said. “I can drive by the station anytime I want. Especially since you’ve lost your mind.” “Great to see you too, Mom.” “Don’t do this. It destroyed your father.” Caitlin spread her hands. “That’s always your reason for stopping me. ‘Don’t run with scissors; it destroyed your father.’ ‘Don’t feed the squirrels; it destroyed your father.’” She patted her mother’s shoulder. “I’m not Dad.

IK.” When they didn’t respond, she expanded. “On my profile? IK. Impact kink.” She looked at them like they were naive. “Slapping, scratching, biting, hitting with a crop. Tamakeri if the guy asks. You know—the Japanese fetish? For getting kicked in the balls?

Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you. —Friedrich Nietzsche