The sullen boy sitting before me is not my husband, and the girl he is fretting over isn't me, will never be me.
Lauren DeStefanoHer mind is a bird that's trapped inside her skull, flapping and thrashing, never breaking free.
Lauren DeStefanoVaughn is talking about the heat, and his voice is so excited that it breaks into whispers at times. He loves his madness the way a bird loves the sky.
Lauren DeStefano