“Poor Kate,” said Constance, “she’s lost her marbles.”

“So what's your team called?" asked Kate, twisting her legs into a pretzel-like configuration, "We're called the Winmates because we're inmates who win." Kate looked back and forth at Reynie and Constance, searching their expression for signs of delight. "You gave yourselves a name?" asked Constance. Now it was Kate's turn to be baffled. "You didn't? How can you have a team without a name?”

“She’s never where she is,' I said. 'She’s only inside her head.”

“She’s never where she is,” I said. “She’s only inside her head.”

“The blood vessels in Nora’s face are widening and her skin is warming,” Patch said. “She knows she’s being evaluated. She likes the attention, but she’s not sure how to handle it.”“I am not blushing.”“She’s nervous,” Patch said. “She’s stroking her arm to draw attention away from her face and down to her figure, or maybe her skin. Both are strong selling points.”

“To the poor memories of drunks,' she said. 'To all the lovely nights forever lost.”