...treat People With Understanding When You Can,

Good God,” I Whispered, Sitting On The Van’s Cot And Looking At My Legs, Horrified. They Were Hairy—not Wolf Hairy, But An I-couldn’t-find-my-razor-the-last-six-months Hairy. Utterly Grossed Out, I Took A Peek At My Armpit, Jerking Away. Oh, That’s Just…nasty.

I Think She Suspects Something, Though. We’ve Had Cherry Pie For Dessert Five Nights In A Row.” His Voice Drawled, And My Smile Deepened.

Maybe If I Didn't Say Anything About What Happened, We Could Get Back To The Way We Were. Ignoring A Problem Was A Perfectly Acceptable Way To Deal With It, As Long As Both People Agree Never To Bring It Up Again.

I’d Given Up On The White Picket Fence After Kisten Had Died—finding Out My Kids Would Be Demons Was The Nail In The Coffin.

Did Something Happen To The Sanctity Of Your Church Again?" My Eye Twitched. "newt Broke It So She Could Look In My Closet." Again.