QUOTE : Then run to me.” Dante’s eyes were fierce as he held her gaze. “I know all about fear, Tess. It lives in me too. That ‘seizure’ I had in your clinic? It’s not a medical condition, not even close.” “What is it?” “Death,” he said woodenly. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve had these attacks—these visions—of my last moments alive. It’s hellish beyond imagining, but I see it as if it’s happening. I feel it, Tess. It’s my fate.” “I don’t understand. How can you be sure of that?” His smile was wry. “I’m sure. My mother had similar visions of her own death, and my father’s too. They happened precisely as she envisioned them. She couldn’t change what was to happen, or turn it back. So I’ve been trying to outrun my own end. I’ve been running from it forever. I’ve kept myself insulated from things that might make me want to slow down and live. I’ve never permitted myself to truly feel.” “There’s danger in feeling,” Tess murmured. Although she could not begin to imagine what kind of pain Dante carried within him, she felt a kinship growing between them. Both alone, both adrift in their worlds. “I don’t want to feel anything for you, Dante.” “God, Tess. I don’t want to feel anything for you either.