“If your mom's a witch, what does that make you? Harry Potter?”

“Si tu mamá es una bruja, ¿en qué te convierte eso a ti? ¿En Harry Potter?”

“What is it about the sight of your mother that makes everything fireside-warm and full of dancing Muppets?”

“I love her.” “She’s dead.” “That doesn’t mean to me what it does to other people.”

“I don't care what your name is," she hisses. "And I don't care who you are. If you don't get him some help, I will burn your fucking place down." Go Carmel.”

“The rhythm of the footsteps, the sound of whatever is coming down the ladder is driving both me and my mom steadily toward peeing our pants.”

“Carmel’s a very pretty girl,” she says hopefully. “Thomas seems to think so.” She sighs, then smiles. “Good. He could use a woman’s touch.” “Mom,” I groan. “Gross.” “Not that kind of touch,” she laughs.”