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For the kid scanning fairy tales for a hero with a face like theirs.

And for the girls whose stories we compressed into pities and wonders, triumphs and cautions, without asking, even once, for their names.

He pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “My ruthless Zoya, I'll load the gun myself.”

As someone who was open and expressive with his emotions, Hilo had long harbored the vaguely resentful suspicion that he loved his family more than they loved him back.

I'm not guilty of anything but being born with this face.