Eleanor’s POV
I remained silent, staring up at the sky. I let the breeze drift over my body and play with my hair, sending it flying and then resting upon my face over and over again. I went over the words Rae had said several times. I couldn’t help but feel exhausted at her confession. Usually at this point in the book, the heroine would be so excited to know she had a purpose, a goal, a mission. She would probably get up, squealing in delight and jump up and down. All I could do was keep myself from groaning and turning over to take a nap. That, I guess, is the difference between a book and reality. Being in charge of your own story meant no ‘for sure’ happy endings, or a villain that will monologue before he’s inevitably put in jail, or boundless energy to tackle any and every problem
