Chloe

“No,” Joan vowed. She grabbed Bash’s shirt. “I don’t want this. Didn’t want this to happen.”
Screams resonated.
Bash continued quietly, “None of us do. That’s not up to us. We have to decide what we’re going to do with what we’re given. Play the cards dealt to us.”
― Cate Campbell Beatty, Donor 23

“It was not that donors had no loyalty to each other, but they were not ashamed to betray a fellow donor. In its wisdom the Alliance promulgated the moral rules—the main one being one’s duty to the Alliance. The Alliance was sacred—all else secondary. But not all donors—or citizens—bought into that. Many knew in their hearts there was more to life.”
― Cate Campbell Beatty, Donor 23

“Her hand accidentally brushed up against his chest. She froze. His breathing remained steady and regular. He had not awoken. She was about to pull her hand away, then stopped. Never had she touched a man’s chest. She waited a moment. His breathing was still constant, still regular. He was still asleep. Flattening her palm against his chest, she felt the tautness of his muscles. She moved her hand, slowly, tremulously, down his chest and across his stomach, feeling the firmness of his skin and his strong physique. He seized her hand, pushed it away, and turned his back to her.”
― Cate Campbell Beatty, Donor 23

“The air delighted her nose—fresher and crisper compared to the air in the grimy ghetto, even better than in the city. She rubbed her chest where the dart had hit. Her heart beat powerfully inside her—fueled by fear. It felt as if it would burst, and she mentally tried to slow it down. Strange, she thought, these may be some of its last beats in her chest. Was that why it beat so fiercely?”
― Cate Campbell Beatty, Donor 23