“Ali wrinkled her forehead and cocked her head to the side. Clearly, she hadn't prepared herself for me to be pleasant. After a moment, her eyes narrowed. "What exactly did you and Lake did yesterday?" she asked, like we might have held up a gas station and gone on a crime spree across the country, all in the span of just a few hours."We went to Mexico, had some tequila, eloped with a pair of drug smugglers, and took part-time jobs as exotic dancers. You know, same old, same old."Ali snorted."I'm torn on stripper names. It's either going to be Lady Love or Wolfsbane Lane. Thoughts?"Ali threw a onesie at me. "Brat.”

“We went to Mexico, had some tequlia, eloped with a pair of drug smugglers, and took part-time jobs as exotic dancers. You know, same old, same old.”

“Ouch!'' The cry escaped before I could stop it, and on either side of me, Chase and Devon leapt to their feet.''Problem?'' Ali asked mildly, amusement dancing in the corners of her eyes. Given the whole Casey thing, I didn't think she had to call to be in such a good mood, but what did I know?''No problem,'' I said darkly, rubbing my shin ''Somebody just accidentally kicked me under the table.'' I narrowed my eyes at lake, and she helped herself to another T-bone And smothered it in stake sauce. ''Wasn’t an accident'' She said cheerfully. ''Lake'' Mitch didn’t say any more than his daughters name and she rolled her eyes. ''It’s not like I shot her''.”

“When my mama was twenty-five she already had an old woman's hands, and I feared them. I did not know then what it was that scared me so. I've come to understand since that it was the thought of her growing old, of her dying and leaving me alone. I feared those brown spots, those wrinkles and cracks that lined her wrists, ankles, and the soft shadowed sides of her eyes.”

“But we did it," said Alys. "We found Morgana and we helped her. How can you worry about detentions when life as we know it has just been saved?”

“Everything was almost the same with her, but she went about her business in a way that put me in mind of an old matchbook. You can scratch the head against the strip in the same way you always have, but you are not going to get any kind of spark.”