We're All Liars When It

So It's Happened, I Kept Thinking, You're In The Middle Of A Story Exactly As You've Always Wanted, And It's Horrible. Fear Tastes Quite Different When You're Not Just Reading About It, Meggie, And Playing Hero Wasn't Half As Much Fun As I'd Expected.

Dustfinger Inspected His Reddened Fingers And Felt The Taut Skin. ‘he Might Tell Me How My Story Ends,’ He Murmured. Meggie Looked At Him In Astonishment. ‘you Mean You Don’t Know?’ Dustfinger Smiled. Meggie Still Didn’t Particularly Like His Smile. It Seemed To Appear Only To Hide Something Else. ‘what’s So Unusual About That, Princess?’ He Asked Quietly. ‘do You Know How Your Story Ends?’ Meggie Had No Answer For That.

Stories Never Really End...even If The Books Like To Pretend They Do. Stories Always Go On. They Don't End On The Last Page, Any More Than They Begin On The First Page.

The Night Breathed Through The Apartment Like A Dark Animal. The Ticking Of A Clock. The Groan Of A Floorboard As He Slipped Out Of His Room. All Was Drowned By Its Silence. But Jacob Loved The Night. He Felt It On His Skin Like A Promise. Like A Cloak Woven From Freedom And Danger.

Where Did The Love Come From? What Was It Made Of?