I wasn't crying, my eyes were running. My eyes were running because there were pieces of zombies all over my toys. Jesus.

Tell that to the BTK killer,” I said. “He was a churchgoer, raised two kids, married, and resisted the urge to kill for decades. He was a person, but he was a monster, too

When I was younger, I'd wanted someone to promise me that things would work out and nothing bad would ever happen again. But I understood now that that was a child's wish. No one could promise that. No one. The grown-ups could try, but they couldn't promise, not and mean it.

I wasn't like most girls.

I could have just said I'm good at my job, but I didn't. Didn't want the police thinking I was holding out information when I wasn't. "I've got one advantage over a normal homicide detective, I expect it to be a monster. No one ever calls me in if it's just a stabbing, or a hit-and-run. I don't spend a lot of time trying to come up with nice, normal explanations. It means I get to ignore a lot of theories.

Nothing is more appealing than a handsome man who is also uncertain of himself.

Remember your personal demons should be afraid of you, because you are their home, their food, and as you heal, their executioner.