Because blood is blood, and every family has its own force.Its own flavor.Its own charm and strange.

You have a history of starving yourself,” he says gently.I lift my head. I meet his gaze. “I have a history that I don’t like to talk about.

You wanted to live,” he says.”You say that like it’s a good thing. A virtue.””What is it really?”I think about this. “Selfish.””Wanting to live is selfish?””Yes.

She must have seen more of my charm than my strangeness tonight.