“[...]Since then it’s been passed from mother to daughter, along with The Face.”“The Face?” Lucas asked.“That Launched a Thousand Ships,” Daphne said, repeating the title automatically. “It’s our curse.”

“Enough wars have been started over this face. My face. My curse—and my mother’s curse, and her mother’s curse, and so on all the way back to the first woman to ever wear this face. Helen of Troy.”

“When she got downstairs, the whole family was in the kitchen, including Lucas. His face lit up like Vegas when he saw her. She automatically went straight to him and sat down, her hopes of a quiet escape ruined by what felt like a knee-jerk reaction. She hadn’t intended to stay for breakfast, but it was almost as if she needed to be near him.”

“Helen's modest. She wanted to dress herself," Ariadne said, drizzling honey over a bowl of oatmeal and putting it down in front of Helen."Modest? Sure she is," Hector said sarcastically as he passed Lucas the bacon."That was YOUR SISTER'S nightgown, wasn't it?" Lucas asked without skipping a beat as he served Helen and himself.Hector wisely shut his mouth."Yeah," Ariadne replied for him, not getting it. "So comfortable! What? What are you all laughing at?”

“Lucas Delos,” he said, holding out his hand.“Don’t you hate this kid?” Jerry asked Helen candidly as he shook the offered hand.”

“Helen?’ Lucas asked, his voice faint and breathy.‘Make sound. If alive,’ he barley managed to say.”

“What are you doing?'Helen put her hand over his to stop him from shifting. 'I'm going inside to talk to your dad. I don't want him to feel like he can't trust me with his daughter.''Lucas, I swear to whatever god you think is holy that I will get out of this car and walk to school if you go inside and talk to my dad.'Lucas smiled and shifted back into first, driving away from her house. 'Who told you the gods were holy?”