Imagery:
"Of all his reckless decisions that night, surely this was the worst. Charlie raced the
moon, and in the final second before the end, he saw the perfect image of happiness.
Sam's innocent face looking up at him. The curl dangling over his forehead. The
Rawlings glove on his hand. And then there was only fracturing glass, metal, and
blackness" (Chapter 1, p. 17).
"He felt his brother's hand, all limp and cold. And Charlie held on as hard as he could" (Chapter 4, p. 27).
Charlie St. Cloud: A Novel