Green Angel (6 page)

old boots, the ravens, the bats, the thousand thorns. I went to the table and opened the bottle of ink, meaning to spill it all out. By chance, I took a pen and dipped it in the bottle. I saw then that the ink was green. It was the ink of a sister, a woman with long, dark hair, a man who was strong. It was the ink of a witness, of a girl of sixteen who had no idea what the future might bring. Green as the world we once knew. I found a ream of white paper in a desk drawer. Then I understood the path my mother had spoken of for me. Every white page looked like a garden, in which anything might grow. I sat down at the table with the pen and the ink. I spread out the clean, white pages. Then and there, I began to tell their story. With gratitude and love to my dear publisher, Jean Feiwel, and my wonderful editor, Elizabeth Szabla. Many thanks also to Elizabeth Parisi for her brilliant design. To Matt Mahurin, thank you, thank, for pure genius. in /o j ij t< i c f/e y i tt I C,Rl-.I-:i. i< /Yi/y ,/o//J/r,i ;r T'r.c Cwi Au"l Cum ,if li:c \- }?r'k llcnifii's h:ii':.i.;iid:. u'M'!v"'".

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