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"It does, and so does that picture"

"Mom said that the people in Snowflake are the worst kind of evil" Cruel, I know, and there’s a pang of hurt and guilt, but what she’s doing to ony

Olivia pauses Grandmothers are supposed to be maternal They’re supposed to bake cakes and pies and cookies and pat my hand and tell me not to worry They aren’t supposed to use curse words or speak in code or try to break me on one of the worst days of my life

As she studies me, I one hundred percent understand that she’s not the warhs on her face, I discover she’s not immune to caustic words

"I’m not evil," she states

My skin prickles Well, she sure as hell isn’t nice

"I’uest bedrooed to you You used to lie in your crib and watch the sunrise with a s Has to be There’s no other explanation for this The picture is fake Her words are lies This entire scenario isa psychotic break after she popped out of the casket

Without saying a word, I stalk past her into the bathroo roo: Eainst the couch and closes her eyes "She’s in the bathrooh to deal with and needs some time alone"

Because when I want time alone, I think toilets "She’s not a child"

Emily’s far from it That body she has--those curves, the way her hipsthat flat stohter--that’s no child

Olivia cracks open an eye, but before she can respond, Cyrus juht She’s not the two-year-old that used to follow you around in your toarden"

"If I wanted your opinion, I’d ask for it," Olivia answers "Both of you"

Mom offers Olivia a hand "You need to rest I’ll wake you e hear frohs Olivia down as she accepts Together, they leave the rooh, in th she needs to defeat the cancer in order to maintain appearances for Emily

When the door to Olivia’s bedroom shuts, I appraise Cyrus as I shift the chess pieces in my head The board in front of in with "What do you need me to do?"