Schwab delivers with unmatched ability to "show, not tell" once again. Short description from pg. 42 that I adore for its specificity: " 'Tastes like grief.' Lottie frowns, not at the words, but the punctuation on the end. She must have lingered, let the pen rest a beat too long against the paper, because the ink has begun to bloom outward from the period, throwing tiny black roots."
— Jan 06, 2026 03:00PM
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