" Henry Grant, I think again as I exhale a deep breath that eases some of the pain that name causes me. It’s not even the name that I object to, if I’m bein’ completely honest with myself. It’s just a name. If Red had given me the most stellar name I could think of it would still suck ‘cuz it’s not my name. It’s someone else’s name. I’m givin’ up my birthright. It’s mine. Russell Marx. Me. It’s like I’m givin’ up my humanity, too, ‘cuz I was nothin’ but human when I was Russell. Now I’m supposed to be Henry and he’s some kind of freaky half-angel. I have had thousands of names in a thousand different lifetimes, but for some reason, this one, Russell Marx, is the hardest for me to give up. Maybe it’s ‘cuz I’m not dyin’ and movin’ on to the next life. I don’t know, but the pain I feel is somethin’ awful. I clutch the steerin’ wheel tight, drivin’ faster than I should through the sleepy little towns between Crestwood and Coldwater. I "

― Amy A. Bartol , Intuition (The Premonition, #2)