How we cite our quotes:
"You mean, [ownership of the wood will come back to our family] if he dies," Winnie had said, flatly, and they had sat back, shocked. Soon after, they put her to bed, with many kisses. But they peered at her anxiously over their shoulders as they tiptoed out of her bedroom, as if they sensed that she was different now from what she had been before. As if some part of her had slipped away. (21.4)
We can't quite get a read on Winnie's family. What do you think? Do they love her? Are they good to her? Have they learned their lesson after the whole running away fiasco?
She rocked, gazing out at the twilight, and the soothing feeling came reliably into her bones. That feeling—it tied her to them, to her mother, her father, her grandmother, with strong threads too ancient and precious to be broken. But there were new threads now, tugging and insistent, which tied her just as firmly to the Tucks. (21.5)
At this point in the novel, Winnie feels torn between her own family and the Tucks. But she chooses her family, right? Why?
One by one, as the rain began, they drew her to them and kissed her. One by one she kissed them back. Was it rain on Mae's face? On Tuck's? Or was it tears? Jesse was last. He put his arms around her and hugged her tight, and whispered the single word, "Remember!" (24.12)
Goodbyes are the worst. Especially when it's with family.