38 Quotes About Danika-stone

The house was quieter than usual, the sounds muffled and soft. It made her throat ache: The darkness, the kitchen, the single light. It felt like she was watching a movie of her life from an earlier era. Before Mom left, before all the trouble. Guilt twinged in Madi’s stomach. Before I took off and left Dad to deal with Sarah alone.

She took two steps toward the door, rolling her shoulders as if walking into a fight. It would be better to just get it over with. Rip the first day off like a bandage rather than wallowing in her misery like a baby.

She was tall and wiry, a dark smudge - a bruise or dirt - marring the light, inner surface of her forearm. Piercings dotted the shells of her ears, a tattoo peeking out from under her waistband. Drew’s breath caught and held as she turned and her face came into view. She was beautiful in the way that bonfires were - mesmerizing and more than a little dangerous - brilliant rather than pretty. Like those flames, she drew him forward.

It felt like surfacing; the sounds and smells of the city hit her in a wave of sensory overload. A taxi peeled by. A horn blared. People milled past, on their way to countless destinations. Madi squinted into the late-afternoon glare and smiled. The hum of millions of separate lives, woven together, gave her a buzz she couldn’t explain. Here in New York she was faceless, unknown. Herself.

If Ashton Hamid had a patronus, it was an overgrown Great Dane. He was all long arms and knobby-kneed legs, bony elbows and size sixteen feet. The resemblance extended to his face too. His brown eyes seemed perennially tired, punctuated by drooping lids and sloping black brows. Chin-length hair flopped over his eyes and behind his ears. His clothes—bought to fit his six and a half foot frame—always looked three sizes too big.

The first hint of danger was a howl so distant, it was more a feeling than a sound.

I know these people, Sadie,” Jim said quietly. “They’re all good folks.” “I know. That’s what bothers me.

Although she appreciated her father’s not-so-subtle efforts to nudge her toward social normalcy, she wasn’t entirely sure she could. Not when the deck was stacked so decidedly against them. Did she want to set herself up for relationship failure?

The teens had gathered in an open clearing. Behind them, the banded lines of Avion Ridge formed a ragged edge between sky and ground, a rock wall looming above the trees. Ash shivered. The hikers stood in shadow here, the warmth of the day gone.