Home is the people who love you.

Home isn't a place. It's not having a bed to come home to, or a yard, or a Christmas tree at the holidays. Home is the people who love you.

Sometimes, the most dangerous people were the ones you trusted most.

Celine snorted. “Never have I ever had a thing for blondes,” she said. And then, her eyes on Sloane, she shot our statistician a dazzling smile and lowered her own finger —meaning that she did have a thing for blondes.