She can’t help it. She loves the con. I tell myself I’m not like her, but I have to admit I love it too.

I’m Lila, and yes, he’s crazy. But you must have noticed that before now. He was crazy back when I knew him, and he’s obviously gotten crazier over time.

He looks like the good boy he's never been.

I'm not good at having friends. I mean, I can make myself useful to people. I can fit in. I get invited to parties and I can sit at any table I want in the cafeteria. But actually trusting someone when they have nothing to gain from me just doesn't make sense. All friendships are negotiations of power.

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

I need your help," says the tiny figure. Her voice is sad and soft and sounds like Lila's, but with an odd accent that might just be how cats sound when they talk.

Greg stands up, wiping his mouth. "I saw your mother's trial in the paper, Sharpe. I know you're just like her." "If I was, I would make you beg to blow me," I sneer.