Before this trip and all that she'd learned about the three of them, she would have gotten angry or changed the subject. Anything to obscure the pain she felt. Now she knew better. You carried your pain with you in life. There was no outrunning it.

Lately he'd been seen going out less and less, becoming that strangest of animals in a small town: a loner.

Promises were a lot like impressions. The second one didn't count for much.

That was the thing about best friends. Like sisters and mothers, they could piss you off and make you cry and break your heart, but in the end, when the chips were down, they were there, making you laugh even in your darkest hours.

You couldn't give up you for them. But what if you wanted them more than you wanted a singular powerful you?

Sometimes holding on was all you could do.

The hallmark of my books is the relationships that define women's lives.