My father took one hundred and thirty-two minutes to die.

They separate us into groups. The Ringleaders and the Others. I belong to the Ringleaders because my weak, pathetic, traitorous, fundamentally base peers point to me when someone asks them who is in charge.

I didn't realize until those few days how much a hug meant. To have someone hold you could be the greatest medicine of all.

I stand up, sure of one thing and one thing only. That my father will come and get me. He won't give me a lecture, he won't try to teach me a lesson. He won't ask a thousand questions or ask me to apologize. He'll just come and get me. "Just tell me where you are.

And then their voices stopped and their souls stood still and they ceased being who they had been. Because who they were had always been determined by him.

I hope you're not smoking in front of her,' Lucia says to him. 'Yeah, I lie in bed and puff in her face, Lucia,' he says, irritated.

Tom always did anger well. Hid it well, but showed it even better