“Kat bought a New York Times but couldn’t figure out how to operate it, so now she’s fiddling with her phone.”

“I never had any doubts about my abilities. I knew I could write. I just had to figure out how to eat while doing this.[Cormac McCarthy's Venomous Fiction, New York Times, April 19, 1992]”

“The only excuse I can think of is the truth – she’s broken. Until someone can figure out how to fix her, what else can she do?”

“She’s trying to figure out the Plague on her own and not taking what the Rising says for granted.”

“Anything your father said. People he might have mentioned.”“Amos,” I blurted out, just to see his reaction. “He met a man named Amos.”Inspector Williams sighed. “Sadie, he couldn’t have done. Surely you know that. We spoke with Amos not one hour ago, on the phone from his home in New York.”“He isn’t in New York!” I insisted. “He’s right—”I glanced out the window and Amos was gone. Bloody typical.”

“But it was another girl, young and new to the city, fiddling with her keys.”