Noosha, for being my first fan, my best friend, a life-changing love. Megan, for being my sister, my warmth, the person to whom I’ll never say goodbye.
Lana Popovic, my incredible agent, for reading my first book in 23 hours and this one in 36, for always making time, for dissecting my manuscripts and operating on them; for your sass, feist, smarts, and love. And for getting me to watch Fringe.
Liz Tingue, the editor I wanted to make mine, whom I now get to call mine, in the least creepy way possible. You saw the spark in this wild, weird, sprawling, and sometimes slow book. You knew what this story wanted to be, and you believed it would get there. Thank you for speaking my language, for loving Beau and Natalie, and for being the hilarious, glittering, genius bombshell of a human being you are.
Marissa Grossman and Jessica Harriton, whose capable yet elegant hands helped knead this story into shape and then pack it into mailers.
Anthony Elder, for giving me a cover that could make hardened criminals and jaded dystopian heroines fall to their knees weeping.
Ben Schrank, for essentially handing me my dream on a glowing, LED platter, and occasionally favoriting my tweets (can’t wait for anthropologists to study this sentence in the year 3000) just to remind me He’s Always Watching from the clouds.
Jennifer Dee, Rachel Lodi, and Anna Jarzab—you know what you did. You are each uniquely amazing.
Krista Ahlberg, Phyllis DeBlanche, Shari Beck, Jenna Pocius, the rest of Razorbill/Penguin team, and every penguin, for being incredible, hardworking, resilient, and adorable.
Everyone who picks up, reads, borrows, buys, or lends this book: if you love this, I hope you know it’s yours. If you don’t, I hope you find $20 in your dirty laundry to make up for it.
For everyone I’ve missed: frankly, you deserve better.
Finally, thank you to Joey, who stole my heart at seventeen, when I was young(er) and stupid(er), and daily gives me a steadfast, quiet love I never knew I needed until I had it. You make this whole world soft for me, and I love all of the yous I’ve known, will know, will never meet. I love you in every moment.
And to the Love who dreamed the world, who gave me breath, and who gingerly passed me this idea page by page: thank you for that time you wept, and for loving me well.