Lorelei Goach

“How Jean’s kind heart had survived a place like Evermore, Jeremy wasn’t sure. It was bruised and bleeding, but it wasn’t broken.”
― Nora Sakavic, The Golden Raven

“Repeat after me: I didn’t deserve what they did to me.”​
Rhemann didn’t know what he was asking; he didn’t know what this would cost. Panic chewed a line from Jean’s gut to his heart. He couldn’t refuse a coach’s direct order, but he could beg: “Please don’t make me, Coach.”
​“I need you to say it and mean it, Jean,” Rhemann said. “Please.”​
Please was so uncalled-for Jean could only stare at him, heart hammering louder than his thoughts. He could feel every chain straining, waiting for the words that would rend them powerless at last. He was afraid to open his mouth again lest he get sick, but at length managed a hesitant, “I didn’t deserve—” heavy hands, heavier racquets, dark rooms, darker blood, teeth and knives and drowning, I’m drowning, I’m drowning “—what they did to me.”
― Nora Sakavic, The Golden Raven

“Fuck what I deserve. What about what I want?”
― Nora Sakavic, The Golden Raven

“Andrew clocked Jeremy immediately, and three of every five messages you’ve sent me this past month are about him.”
― Nora Sakavic, The Golden Raven