I__ either with you forever, or I__ not. I__ not into games or fucking around. I__e had enough experience to know what to hold onto when I get it.

I__ broken. Fucked up. I feel sick. I can__ breathe. It__ like someone__ snaked their fingers around my heart, capturing it in a crushing grip. It__ Emma. This is her doing. Well, it won__ fucking bleed for her. It won__ bleed for anyone. It__ black. I__ dead inside.

Mel rolled her eyes. "You can't live your life based on 'what-ifs,' Liv. And change is inevitable. It's the one thing you can always count on. Stop worrying about what might or not happen and follow your heart. How can you expect to ever be happy if you don't?

I am not scoffing at goodness, which is far more difficult to explain than evil, and just as complicated. But sometimes it's hard to put up with.

Stupidity is the same as evil if you judge by the results.

Writers are much better behaved nowadays, for a couple of reasons. Once upon a time nobody was thinking of a career, unless you lived in New York, so there wasn__ as much pressure to present a respectable exterior. And secondly, there was no social media. So if you were found face down on the floor _ people did do that quite a bit; usually men, but not always _ or fell through plate glass windows or got into scrapes, it became a rumour, and rumours are hard to pin down.