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“Everything about Jocelyn had been ordinary. A Norman Rockwell painting of mom, dad, one boy, one girl. Scott was her wild storm, her great American novel, her epic story. Every extraordinary moment she experienced was because of him.”
― Shrapnel
― Shrapnel
“One lone bubble floated toward her. In its curves, she saw the reflection of every color around her, a circular prism. She was that bubble. Tossed by the win in every direction. Reflecting all the people around her, all the things happening to her. All but herself.”
― Shrapnel
― Shrapnel
“He had taken everything she was, everything she spent every day doing, everything that had helped her survive without him, and he made it all inconsequential. Her whole life felt small and naked.”
― Shrapnel
― Shrapnel
“The freshness of an unworn garment in her hands couldn't extinguish the feeling that she was a damaged, hole-ridden item, thrown to the back of a closet to be forgotten.”
― Shrapnel
― Shrapnel
