“Death is the force that will create your new life. It is a mechanism of transformation. Welcome it.”

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, swinging on the rope.”“I won’t. I’ll find a new way,” she teased.”

“You’re American, yes?” Daniela said.“Yes.”“New York?”“Oregon.”“Dónde?” Where?“It’s a state on the West Coast.”“Near Los Angeles?” Brigitte asked.“North of there. Just south of Canada.”All three sighed, “Ah.”“You’re from the ends of the earth,” Amalia said, a teasing smile on her lips.“Not quite that far!”“Almost!” Brigitte said.”

“The driver bumped his way through the door and plopped down Caitlyn’s “luggage.” Caitlyn watched Madame Snowe’s eyes go to it, widening asshe took it in. Caitlyn’s cheeks heated.Her “luggage” was a Vietnam War-era army green duffel bag, bought for a dollar at a garage sale. Cloud-shaped moisture stains mottled itsfaded surface, and jagged stitches of black carpet thread sealed a rip on one end, Caitlyn’s clumsy needlework giving the mended hole the look ofone of Frankenstein’s scars.“Is that all you brought?” Greta asked.Caitlyn nodded, wishing the floor would swallow her.“Very good. You will have no trouble unpacking, and then you can burn your bag, heh?”“Reduce, reuse, recycle!” Caitlyn said with false cheer. “We’re very big on living green in Oregon. Why buy a new suitcase when someone else’sold duffel bag will do?”“We’ll see that it gets … disposed of properly,”

“Except Caitlyn. High school dating, drill team, school spirit—it all seemed silly to her. Why did it feel like high school was crushing her soul? Shehad nothing concrete she could point to. All she knew was that she didn’t belong here.She preferred old, used clothes to new ones; her iPod was full of classical music; and photos of castles and reproductions of old European artcovered her bedroom walls, including a Renaissance painting of a young girl in white, named Bia. It should have been pop singers on her wall, ormovie stars”

“We don't put much stock in genealogy where I'm from [...] It's assumed that you're kind of a loser if you have to sink to boasting about your family in order to impress people.”

“You can't go through life striking out at people who hurt or scare you. All that does is show them that you're weak. It tells them that they've wounded you, and a strong woman never shows her wounds unless it serves a purpose.”