Mom's eyes blazed. "Are you sleeping with her?" Oh, god. Did we have to do this here? Now? "Well, actually," I smirked, "we don't get a lot of sleep.

You won't know until it's over. You won't find me in time.

I don't have to answer. Until you know the question.

There's no reason to speak. I have nothing to say.

The sad truth is, they should never trust me.

How does he do it? Live. With the fear of death every day. I don't fear death as much as I fear the thought of living.

What did she see in me? What does she see that I don't?