Copyright © 2015 by roastedpiglet (of Wattpad)
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author.
Wha—wha—what's up, brilliant legacies of the world? Have you been doing amazing? :D
I love you!!! Thank you so so so much for every single. Vote. Comment. Read. Add to your reading list(s). Follow. It is the entire wp world to me. You're legen—wait for it—dary! Just like Barney! *throws confetti*
How to Fall in Love will have 51 chapters in total. There may or may not be an epilogue :) So we're really, reaaally close to the end—just 3 more chapters left! I hope you'll want to read till the final part.
I am so, so sorry for the flaws of the story—for all the irksome, repetitive words, for the run-on sentences that look like they're a bloody marathon, and for all the incongruities that you spot every time I upload a new chapter. I am so sorry for all of them—and I thank you so utterly much for reading on in spite of them.
I love you!!! I really do. I am very grateful for you reading this right now. Know that even if we don't know each other personally, that I might not call you by name and talk to you on a daily basis, I owe you a big big big big bucket of thanks. You are super amazing!
Until the next chapter?
P.S. The song above is "Find Me" by Zedd, which is too beautiful for its own good. Along with it is the lovely Ashley Benson, crying. (omf, right in the feels) In the external link (for the browser users) is the cover made by @xInfinite_Fireheartx (thank you)!
P.PS. May I ask for a favor, please? For those of you who read on their phone, please re-add this story to your library, so that the recent changes I've made will be ready and appear. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Without further ado, the 48th chapter of HTFIL:
c h a p t e r f o r t y - e i g h t
[ h o w t o f i n d y o u r s e l f ]
The parlous state of my heart was unnoticed, innocuous—all I seemed to chronicle was the sharp, twisted account of my mother dying.
Your mother had no pulse.
I shook my head ardently, refusing to acknowledge the truth.
Your mother was rushed to the hospital.
I felt tears, livid and lucid, rushing down my cheeks, like a dark storm obliterating everything.
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