“Thank you for this. You’re a very talented agent of deassholization.”“Oh, this isn’t my method of choice. Trust me. But if it makes you happy then I’m okay with it.”She looks away shyly, but her eyes come back to mine, unable to resist the magnetism that’s between us. “Well, it makes me very happy.”

“Everyone is so cheerful and happy,” I said“This isn’t Mister Rogers Neighborhood, Dex. It’s Miami. Only the bad guys are happy.” She looked at me without expression, a perfect cop stare. “How come you’re not laughing and singing?”“Unkind, Deb. Very unkind. I’ve been good for months.”She took a sip of water. “Uh-huh. And it’s making you crazy.”

“My head aches, my eyes burn, my arms and legs have given up, and my face in the mirror has a grayish cast. The bed, across the room, calls in its unmistakable lover's croon, Come to me, come, only I can make you truly happy, oh, how happy I'll make you, don't resist, remember how you moan with pleasure the instant we touch.....”

“Don't make me happy. Please, don't fill me up and let me think that something good can come of any of this. Look at my bruises. Look at this graze. Do you see this graze inside me? Do you see it before your very eyes, eroding me? I don't want to hope for anything more.”

“Oh no, that’s for you. Presents make people happy. The Simi wants you to be happy. (Simi)Thank you, Simi. (Gallagher)No need to thank me. See, that’s what families do. They take care of each other. (Simi)I no longer have a family. I had to give them up. (Gallagher)Of course you have a family. Everyone has family. I’m your family. Akri your family. Even that smelly old goddess is your family. She’s that creepy old aunt who comes around but nobody likes her so they make fun of her when she’s gone. (Simi)”

“Those images were the world, and it stewed in her as she sat with the lovely books and their manicured titles. It brewed in her as she eyed the pages full to the brims of their bellies with paragraphs and words. You bastards, she thought. You lovely bastards. Don't make me happy. Please, don't fill me up and let me think something good can come from any of this. Look at my bruises. Look at this graze. Do you see the graze inside me? Do you see it before your very eyes, eroding me? I don't want to hope for anything anymore.”