“I don’t think my sister is old enough to have sex.”“V, she’s the same age you are.”He frowned for a moment. Was she? Or had he been born first?”

“She thinks you married me for power,” he said as they walked on. “Renee. As that’s what she would’ve done. The power and the money is one in the same to her.”“She’s wrong. I married you for the sex.” He grinned. “So sure of that am I that I work diligently to hold up my end of it.”

“And how old are you, Miss Beckett?” “Seventeen.” “What!” There is no way she’s seventeen. I inspect her face, studying it intently, but don’t know what it is I hope to find. Laugh lines maybe? She watches my face. “Is my age a problem for you?”“Hell, yeah, seventeen is a problem.” I throw my napkin on the table. All of this has been a waste. “Forget it all. This whole thing is off.” “I don’t act seventeen. I’m very mature for my age.”“No way. You’re not even old enough to be drinking that wine.” I lean in and whisper so no one will overhear. “I’m almost twice your age.” “I don’t mind. I have daddy issues.” She breaks into a huge grin and I hear a girlish giggle. That’s when I realize she’s fucking with me and has the ability to lie with a straight face. I’ll have to remember that for future reference. I’m not amused. “I see I have a comedienne on my hands.”

“He stopped at every village, every hamlet, every house and hovel he passed along the way to ask if they had seen or heard anything of his sister,, Gretel. But no one had. "You mean Gretel, the old woman?""No, my sister.""Gretel, my sister's baby?""No, my sister. And she's not a baby.""I have a goat named Gretel.""No!”

“He loves her for everything she is and is not. She’s old enough to appreciate that.”

“She’s been trying to escape since she was little. The thing I don’t think she’s realized is that eventually you have to stop. And what happens when you do?”