The Cutter leaned toward me, resting his forehead against mine. ‘Fool me once,’ he whispered, ‘shame on you.’ He pressed the bridge of his nose against mine, his breath burning the back of my throat....

It was that summer, too, that I began the cutting, and was almost as devoted to it as to my newfound loveliness. I adored tending to myself, wiping a shallow red pool of my blood...

There’s no magical healing in this. I won’t wake up tomorrow fixed and joyful. I’ll still hurt and grieve. But moments like this, with Colton? They make it all bearable. He doesn’t fix me, doesn’t...

Yeah. I know why she cuts. I just don’t know the seed-reason. It’s deep inside her, and it’ll take time and patience to get it out of her.

I should walk away. That would be the right thing to do. It would be the smart thing. But I can’t, because I’m Taylor Caldwell, the girl who cuts.