“When I was nineteen and Mattie was thirteen, Keith came back. I turn the switchblade one more time in my sweaty palm, feeling the weight of its neat black handle and the unforgiving blade tucked inside. It was his, a long time ago. It’s mine now. I’m going to carve my name into his soul.”

“When I was nineteen and Mattie was thirteen, Keith came back. I turn the switchblade one more time in my sweaty palm, feeling the weight of its neat black handle and the unforgiving blade tucked inside. It was his, a long time ago. It’s mine now. I’m going to carve my name into his soul.”

— Courtney Summers