We were his disposable things. Brought to him like cattle. Stripped of what made us sisters or daughters or children. There was nothing that he could take from usโour genes, our bones, our wombsโthat would ever satisfy him. There was no other way that we would be free.
Lauren DeStefanoIt is the face of a girl who has seen the world, who realizes that it hates her, and who hates it in return.
Lauren DeStefanoOn tiptoes the redhead wouldn't even reach my shoulders; she is clearly too young to be a bride. And the willowy girl is too forlorn. And I am too unwilling. Yet here we are.
Lauren DeStefano