Exodus by Kate Stewart

Well, fuck.

I really thought I had made it through in one piece. I saw the signs, I pieced together the puzzle; I knew what was coming. I thought that knowing would protect me, that I’d outsmarted the heartbreak waiting in the wings. Only, right as I was brushing off my shoulders, feeling all smug and unshaken, that’s when the real punch landed.

Suddenly, I was just sitting there, sobbing, staring at the wall, laughing at the version of me who had been so proud of being unmoved just moments before.

You will not survive this story in one piece.

This book is a wild, desperate race to the finish line. The shifting dynamics bring the story to life as we fight, scratch, and claw our way forward. But the descent? Oh, it's not gradual. It’s a sheer drop off a cliff, and we’re scrambling for purchase, trying to soften the inevitable crash. Yet, when we finally reach the bottom, we realize… the view suits us far better than the sunshine or the rainy days on the mountaintop.

We hiked to the top before we broke. We slid downhill, fighting every inch of the way, only to discover that the valley feels like home.

But home has a price. And it’s steeper than anyone can afford to pay. It will cost you everything.

I loved, I cried, and a part of me died. I had reservations about the boys of book one. I fell for the men of book two. And I broke right alongside Cecelia when we hit the bottom.

That said, part 2 is where things got rough. Odd pacing, the repetition of certain choices, it felt like we were spinning in circles and slamming into the same wall over and over. By the end, I wasn’t even sure how I was still on the same ride that had ripped the floor out from under me.

I earned my damn wings and my lifetime membership to the "Emotionally Devastated by Exodus" club.