Quotes by Clara Kensie

Some stories wont have a happy ending, but theres always hope that the next one will. Hope is everything. Even when theres nothing else. Especially when theres nothing else.

Dad thinks Im ready to fly around the country as the Ambassador of Hope, but Mom thinks Im a frail little bird with broken wings.

Hope is made of air, and wishes. An empty box wrapped in shiny paper.And now Dad wants me to be the ambassador of hope for his foundation. How can I be the ambassador of hope, when hope doesnt change anything? When unrealized hopes only bring pain and despair?

Hope is made of air, and wishes. An empty box wrapped in shiny paper.

My father is using me as a message of hope. My sister is using me as a message of fear.I dont want to be used by anybody.

My friend Bailey is looking at me with tears in her eyes and a smile of pure joy. She sees me, the real me, not the broken little bird that my mother sees, or the Ambassador of Hope that my father sees, or the girl who was stupid enough to walk off with a stranger and ruin everyones lives that my sister sees. Bailey sees me as I want to be: a normal, non-newsworthy, non-broken, non-victimized sixteen-year-old girl.

My Keepers house. Right there. Brown shingles, dark red shutters, yellow-and-black police tape wrapped around the massive tree trunks. The attic window looks out over the yard and the world narrows until that attic window is the only thing I can see.

So many cameras are on me. This press conference is going to be on every news channel and posted on the internet. Thousands, maybe millions of people will see me. And they will all be thinking: Victim. Victim. Victim.

Do it double, because some cant do it at all.

Something contracts in my chest. The air shifts, grows heavy and dense as mud. Alexa twists her hair around her finger and whispers, Didnt you even try to escape, Charlotte?

I say to my sister, I thought you were doing the things in our Dream Book. I was sure of it. Why would I do that stuff without you? Because you could.Well, you were wrong.

Each second of my four years, two months, and seven days in the attic dragged on forever, and nothing ever changed. But outside the attic, everything changed, and so violently fast. Destruction and devastation for all of us, whether we were in the attic or out.

The only thing that gave me comfort in the attic was thinking about my family. Now Im home, but its not the home I imagined. Not the family I imagined. Id convinced myself that theyd continued on with their happy, carefree lives without me, that they were doing it double, because I couldnt do it at all. I was wrong.

My sister has never not told me something before. We used to share every secret, every thought. While I was in the attic, it felt like we were forever far away. Now Im with her again. Were so close that were touching, but theres still a distance between us.

Alexas face whitens. The coil of hair loosens itself from her finger. You did it for me. You never fought back. Because you thought you were keeping me safe.I pull up my gaze to meet hers. Yeah.I-- Its a strangled, high-pitched sound, laced with shock and grief. Then she bites her lips shut. Her chin trembles, just once, before she turns away.

My Keeper took everything from me: my home, my family, my voice. He made me powerless. But Im home now. It may be split in two, but I have it back. My family may be broken, but I have it back. I have my voice back. I am not powerless anymore.