“I turned my peeled-apple face to him. I'd make myself look at him. I owed him that. His touch lingered on my neck as though he'd left a handprint of melted light.”

“He'd laugh in my face, then I'd slice him to ribbons and then he'd break my neck”

“I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled myself closer to him until my lips touched his.”

“My father had put these things on the table.I looked at him standing by the sink. He was washing his hands, splashing water on his face. My mamma left us. My brother, too. And now my feckless, reckless uncle had as well. My pa stayed, though. My pa always stayed.I looked at him. And saw the sweat stains on his shirt. And his big, scarred hands. And his dirty, weary face. I remembered how, lying in my bed a few nights before, I had looked forward to showing him my uncle's money. To telling him I was leaving. And I was so ashamed.”

“And that's when I snapped up my left hand and smashed him in the face with the hammer I'd grabbed.”

“Judging by the hard lines of his face and the flat look in his eyes, he'd left the Marines, but the Corps hadn't quite left him.”