But hatred is a way of staying tied to someone, of letting them keep a room in your mind, and I did not want to give him one.

What I felt toward him, when I felt anything, was closer to the way you feel about a storm that has damaged your house: a clear-eyed acknowledgment that it was destructive and that it must not be allowed to do it again, without any illusion that the storm cared, or that raging at it would help.

Gavin was what he was.

Understanding exactly what that was had been necessary, in order to stop him.