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336 pages, Hardcover
First published October 4, 2011
“His gaze traced the lines of my mouth, his eyes finally settling on mine. His breath filled my ears and I smelled the
charcoalgross boy smell again as I leaned closer.”
"Love is just caring for someone very deeply. Feeling like that person matters to you, like your whole world would be sadder without them in it."That was just very heartbreaking for me. For a 6-year-old not knowing what love is. Like I said, it bothers me. But not in the bad way where I would want to stop reading. Instead, in a way that made me stop and be very thankful for what I have in life.
The stream was the only hand that touched me, the wind the only breath that blew the dust from my eyes. I learned the strange art of loneliness, the weathered yearning that swells and passes, swells and passes, when you walk a trail alone.I also really liked the love interest, Caleb. You know how the love interest always pulls the card where his controlling over protectiveness is romanticized as loving concern? I didn't find that here. Caleb was a sweet guy. He took care of Eve and her friend, Arden when they had nowhere to go. I could feel that he really cared for Eve. There is one part of the novel that spoke volumes about his character to me. Eve was staying with Caleb and a group of other "stray" boys and they were just about to go on a raid the guard’s outpost. Caleb doesn't think it's a good idea that she goes:
"What if I still want to go?"That quote made me so happy because YES, let's tell the heroine of the danger, but YES, let her decide if she wants to proceed or not.
"Then you'll go," he said. "But I wanted you to know the danger."
I'd once read about amputees, and how they had pains where their arms and legs used to be. Phantom limbs, they were called. I'd always thought that was the best way to describe my feelings about my mother. She was now just an ache for something I'd had lost.
WHERE DO YOU GO WHEN NOWHERE IS SAFE?
During my life at School I always had Pip or Ruby by my side, calling me to supper or straightening my skirt when it was crooked. But for days in the wild, only the birds spoke to me. The stream was the only hand that touched me, the wind the only breath that blew the dust from my eyes. I learned the strange art of loneliness, the weathered yearning that swells and passes, swells and passes, when you walk a trail alone. [pp. 179-180]