She took out Jolie's mirrored compact, studying the two different Sophies reflected inside.
"The Black Swan knows who I am, Keefe. Not who I was—or who I think I am. Who I really am."
Keefe scooted closer, so close she could see his reflection in the mirrors. "Well, we both know I'm not good at the serious, supportive thing, so I may be a jerk for saying this but . . . when are you going to realize that they can't tell you who you are? Maybe they can tell you a bunch of weird junk about your past and your family—and I get that some of that might be freaky. But if they tell you that your mom is the most open, go-with-the-flow person they've ever known, is that suddenly going to make you stop being so stubborn or keeping so many secrets?"
"I doubt it," Sophie admitted.
"And what if they told you your dad was an even bigger rule breaker than me—not that that's possible. Are you suddenly going to start ditching class and pranking Dame Alina—or, Magnate Leto, or whoever our principal is?"
"No."
"Right. Because our family doesn't decide who we are. We decide who we are. Believe me, it drives my parents crazy. And sometimes that's the only thought that gets me through the day."
———
"I don't care about that," Sophie jumped in. "I care about Keefe. Look at him!"
Keefe had sunk to a crouch, cradling his head in his hands.