We are both of us made of the things we have lost.

I’m your big sister. I don’t have to see anything to know James is always something bad.” Fia snorts. “You wouldn’t think so if you could look at him.

I don’t even remember what happy felt like. I think it probably felt like that night I got really drunk with James. Soft and fuzzy, everything spinning and out of focus.

He is very, very careful. I wish he wouldn’t be.

And I think that this, here, with James, will always be wrong but it will always be the right sort of wrong, because if we don’t do this, no one will. We are a matched set of perfect liars, perfectly destroyed people, perfect for destruction.

She looked . . . whole. With him.

If we are defined by what we have lost, James and I will never really be found.

But James is my north now. The flames are my north now. Our dark secrets are my north now.

Then she leans over, brushes her lips against his forehead, and turns off the lamp.