We’re considering it suspicious for now. Why didn’t anyone report her missing? She’d been dead for a few days.” A full week, actually. But who was counting?

This was life; shit happens. You either dealt with it and went back to wearing Gucci, or you curled up in a ball and waited to die. Only the strong survived.

Worse than that, she was blaming me for Lisa’s death. Me? As if. She should be blaming Lisa. No, she should be thanking me—Lisa wore veils.

I’d even gotten her lunch for her, carrying it like a pathetic assistant while she whimpered about her arm. I didn’t even spit in it. I wanted to. (Imagine watching her eat something that came from inside me. Oh, heaven.)

Kill them with kindness and enthusiasm if you can’t kill them at all.