“You *are* my family,' he said. The tears almost started up again. Those four little words meant so much to me - which was stupid, really. They were just words. But they were words I'd been wanting to hear, wanting to believe. *You are my family*.”

“It sounded weird to hear you talk so much; normally you only said a few words at a time. I'd never imagined that you'd have a story, too. Until that moment, you were just the kidnapper. You didn't have reasons for anything. You were stupid and evil and mentally ill. That was all. When you started talking, you started changing.”

“I told you once,” said Red, “that I wanted to hear your voice. I did not think the first words I would hear would be these.”“Those were not the first words,” I whispered, fighting tears. I would not weep.”

“Those were the words she wanted to hear and she finally surrendered to the temptation of believing them.”

“I didn't know how to say goodbye. Words were stupid. They said so little. Yet they opened up holes you could fall into and never climb out of again.”

“It's all right, little woman, take my word for it. If I were you, I'd cry. You'll see things differently through your tears.”