Just because you can't see the wound doesn't mean it isn't hurting.

There's a problem with wounded birds, Cassie," Connor said. "Either they fly away from you one day, or else they never get better. They stay hurt no matter what you do.

I always hated when my scars started to fade, because as long as I could still see them, I knew why I was hurting.

It still hurts," she whispered. "Even when you're doing it for someone else, that doesn't stop your ribs from getting cracked, or your wrist swelling, or your cuts from bleeding.

I felt a splinter of guilt wedge into my heart. Charlotte had hurt me; in return, I'd hurt Rob. Maybe that's what we do to the people we love: take shots in the dark and realize too late we've wounded the people we're trying to protect.

It's crazy, right? To love someone who's hurt you? It's crazier to think that someone who hurts you loves you.