"She smiled, slow and treacherous. 'Help you, darling?
I'd rather see you in the worst kind of foster hell
than with a woman like that.' She reached up to push
a lock of hair from my face, and I jerked away.
She grabbed my wrist, forcing me to look at her.
Now she was dead serious. What was under the games was
pure will. I was terrified to struggle. 'What are you
going to learn from a woman like that?' she said. 'How
to pine artistically? Twenty-seven names for tears?'"