Of Course I Can See You. I'm

She Had Fallen Asleep With Her Head On His Arm, The Clockwork Angel, Still Around Her Throat, Resting Against His Shoulder Just To The Left Of His Collarbone. As She Moved Away, The Clockwork Angel Slipped Free And She Saw To Her Surprise That Where It Had Lain Against His Skin It Had Left A Mark Behind, No Bigger Than A Shilling, In The Shape Of A Pale White Star.

Jace, There Is No Wedding! Stop Isabelle! Sit On Her If You Have To. Just Stop Her From Doing Whatever She's Doing Or I Can Never Come Home. -alec

Dear Alec And Magnus, How Are You? Everything's Just Fine Here. Thanks For You Postcard With The Picture Of The Taj Mahal. It Looks Nice. Disregard My Last Few Postcards. I See I Overdid It. To Make It Up To You, I'm Going To Redecorate Magnus's Loft For Free. -izzy

And In Some Way, Clary Thought, He Meant It, Meant His Gratitude. He Had Long Ago Lost The Ability To Distinguish Between Force And Cooperation, Between Fear And Willingness, Between Love And Torture. And With That Realization Came A Rush Of Numbness—what Was The Point Of Hating Valentine For Being A Monster When He Didn’t Even Know He Was One?

This Was A Voice That Drew Out Memories Stretched Thin By Years Of Recollection, Like Paper Unfolded And Refolded Too Many Times. A Voice That Brought Back, Like A Wave, The Memory Of Another Time On This Bridge, A Night So Long Ago, Everything Black And Silver And The River Rushing Away Under Her Feet.