You really dug your own grave,” he mutters. “And I’m going to bury you in it.” “Say that louder,” I tell him, under my breath. “I dare you.

If you keep it," Daneca says, "he'll have his claws in you." Everyone has their claws in me. Everyone.

At the end of a criminal’s life, it’s always the small mistake, the coincidence, the lark. The time we got too comfortable, the time we slipped up, the time someone aimed a little to the left. I’ve heard Grandad’s war stories a thousand times. How they finally got Mo. How Mandy almost got away. How Charlie fell. Birth to grave, we know it’ll be us one day. Our tragedy is that we forget it might be someone else first.

I'm afraid my voice is going to break. I am afraid she is going to hear how much this hurts.

She knew she shouldn't feel that way about a monster, but right then, she wanted nothing more than a monster of her very own.

The easiest lies to tell are the ones you want to be true.

It demeans you to cover rotten meat with honey. I know what I am. What would you want with a monster?" "Everything.