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338 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 5, 2014




Bobbie had taken for granted were that she had time and choices. As it happened, she had neither. It felt so stupid and so, so childish – she’d almost seen herself as immortal.

Talking about ghosts is pretty stupid, but so is denying what’s right in front of you.’
["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>“Drip, drip, drip.
Drip, drip, drip.
Drip, drip, drip.”

“Bobbie wondered if that's how long you truly live for - until the last person who remembers you, until the final bouquet on your grave.”


"Drip, drip, drip.
Drip, drip, drip.
Drip, drip, drip."
"Bobbie wondered if that's how long you truly live for - until the last person who remembers you, until the final bouquet on your grave."