“That’s what I thought.” Her smile turned wistful before fading entirely. “Life is lived in chapters, my girl. Fairy tales and horror stories all strung together like beads on a string. When one chapter ends—when fate conspires to tear us from our own book—we’ve no choice but to begin again, to invent a new version of ourselves. And we pretend that version is all that has ever been, all that will ever be. We pretend we’re safe. Until the tide comes rushing in again, and we must swim for our lives once more.”