“Persephone said, “What an unpleasant young man.”Calla let the curtains drift shut. She remarked, “I got his license plate number.”“I hope he never finds what he’s looking for,” Maura said.Retrieving her two cards from the table, Persephone said, a little regretfully, “He’s trying awfully hard. I rather think he’ll find something.”Maura whirled toward Blue. “Blue, if you ever see that man again, you just walk the other way.”“No,” Calla corrected. “Kick him in the nuts. Then run the other way.”

“Maura whirled towards Blue. "Blue, if you ever see that man again, you just walk the other way.""No," Calla corrected. "Kick him in the nuts. Then run the other way.”

“So I take it you and Gansey get along, then?” Maura’s expression was annoyingly knowing.“Mom.”“Orla told me about his muscle car,” Maura continued. Her voice was still angry and artificially bright. The fact that Blue was well aware that she’d earned it made the sting of it even worse. “You aren’t planning on kissing him, are you?”“Mom, that will never happen,” Blue assured her. “You did meet him, didn’t you?”“I wasn’t sure if driving an old, loud Camaro was the male equivalent of shredding your T-shirts and gluing cardboard trees to your bedroom walls.”“Trust me,” Blue said. “Gansey and I are nothing like each other. And they aren’t cardboard. They’re repurposed canvas.”“The environment breathes a sigh of relief.” Maura attempted another sip of her drink; wrinkling her nose, she shot a glare at Persephone. Persephone looked martyred. After a pause, Maura noted, in a slightly softer voice, “I’m not entirely happy about you’re getting in a car without air bags.”“Our car doesn’t have air bags,” Blue pointed out.Maura picked a long strand of Persephone’s hair from the rim of her glass. “Yes, but you always take your bike.”Blue stood up. She suspected that the green fuzz of the sofa was now adhered to the back of her leggings. “Can I go now? Am I in trouble?”“You are in trouble. I told you to stay away from him and you didn’t,” Maura said. “I just haven’t decided what to do about it yet. My feelings are hurt. I’ve consulted with several people who tell me that I’m within my rights to feel hurt. Do teenagers still get grounded? Did that only happen in the eighties?”“I’ll be very angry if you ground me,” Blue said, still wobbly from her mother’s unfamiliar displeasure. “I’ll probably rebel and climb out my window with a bedsheet rope.”Her mother rubbed a hand over her face. Her anger had completely burned itself out. “You’re well into it, aren’t you? That didn’t take long.”“If you don’t tell me not to see them, I don’t have to disobey you,” Blue suggested.“This is what you get, Maura, for using your DNA to make a baby,” Calla said.Maura sighed. “Blue, I know you’re not an idiot. It’s just, sometimes smart people do dumb things.”Calla growled, “Don’t be one of them.”“Persephone?” asked Maura.In her small voice, Persephone said, “I have nothing left to add.” After a moment of consideration, she added, however, “If you are going to punch someone, don’t put your thumb inside your fist. It would be a shame to break it.”“Okay,” Blue said hurriedly. “I’m out.”“You could at least say sorry,” Maura said. “Pretend like I have some power over you.”

“In another corner Nathaniel murmured to Maura, "You must know, Miss O'Connell, I . . . I loved you even before I saw you. It was your father's way of talking."Maura shook her head. "You mustn't say that. It's not my dear da's words that should do the wooing," she said gently. "I'd rather be cared for . . . for what I am myself."Nathaniel nodded. "I'll not say more. But I will tell you what I think I'm going to do."And what is thatI'm going to California to search for gold."And do you think, Nathaniel Brewster, you'll find it?"I do. But it won't be as fine as what's here," Nathaniel said with a shy smile. "Maura O'Connell . . . will . . . will you . . . wait for me to come back?"Maura was silent.Will you?"You're a fine young man, Mr. Brewster. I can only say I'll not forget you.”

“Do you know, it's really hard to be a parent. I blame it on Santa Claus. You spend so long making sure your kid doesn't know he's fake that you can't tell when you're supposed to stop.""Mom, I found you and Calla wrapping my presents when I was, like, six.""It was a metaphor, Blue.""A metaphor's supposed to clarify by providing an example. That didn't clarify.""Do you know what I mean or not?""What you mean is that you're sorry you didn't tell me about Butternut."Maura glowered at the door as if Calla stood behind it. "I wish you wouldn't call him that.""If you'd been the one to tell me about him, then I wouldn't be using what Calla told me.""Fair enough.”

“His eyes were closing again, all of their own accord, so that he lay in red, pain-filled darkness. It occured to him that he was dying and he didn’t care. ‘He’s alive!’ Blue said again ‘He’s breathing!’ ‘I can’t see him breathing.”