" I lay the chrysanthemum across the stone, letting my fingers trail across the
cut of his name and
ignoring the tears that never seem far from my eyes these days. Even three
months later, I have
nightmares about him. Not his death, though I still have day-mares about
that. My nightmares are much
worse.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’ll watch the world while you sleep. "

― Mary Elizabeth Summer , Trust Me, I'm Lying (Trust Me, #1)