“Does your family play games, too?" She tries to sound off-hand."No. Just me - and my brother."Which means her parents are in the casinos, then, leaving this kid in a collapsing mine. Okay, a virtual one, but still.”

“This softening she sees in me isn't enough to make me affectionate, but it's just enough to render me inept. I can't give her what she wants — virtuousness — or what she needs — protection.”

“Too bad. Game over. Insert new fucking quarter.”

“Don't tell me it's going to fucking be okay! I am not okay with being that fucker's pinata!”

“That's not cruel. This is. You come here in the middle of the night, expecting me to be awake, and ask—no, demand—me to give you things that belong to me as much as they belong to you. Never mind what it does to me. Never mind that each time I see you, I wonder if I'll ever hold you in my arms again, or be able to touch you without you cringing away like I'm a monster. I think it's fair to ask if there's an 'us,' my dear, because I suspect you're trying to use me just now. Tell me that's not cruel, and I'll let you go.”

“What's happening to me?" she whispers to the quilt. "I'm losing my mind."Though that implies that I had one to begin with.”

“They stare at her, not seeing the woman she is or the girl she was none too long ago, but a mere puzzle. An intractable puzzle - bemusing and a little frustrating, but capable of being solved nonetheless.”