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Paperback
First published July 14, 2014
"There are so many layers to our fucked up layer cake, I don't know how to untangle it," she said.
"You don't untangle a cake, baby," he said. "You eat it."
"I don't want somebody in Benny's life who thinks its cool to be associated with gangs that run sex slaves and sweatshops."
"Hangman doesn't run sex slaves and sweatshops."
"They're friends with gangs that do," she said.
People didn't realize the things they hated about themselves were often the coolest.
She told them how she loved him, even though he was in this gang, and that there was something good inside him, even though he was in this life.
She so craved to share Benny with him. She wished he could see how amazing his kid was. And Benny was so affectionate, what would Thorne do with that heady flow of love and acceptance? In spite of all that had happened between them, in spite of the hotel soap bit and everything else, she wanted that love for Thorne. Thorne didn’t trust when adults were kind to him, but Benny was pure and good, and never a lie. Thorne would know that.
Thorne couldn’t leave her. “You can’t leave me. You can’t, you just can’t!”
It was then that the coldness had come over him. “I’m already gone,” he’d growled.
She’d told him he couldn’t be gone, and she was just leading into her news when he’d grabbed onto her shoulders and looked right into her eyes, interrupting her. “When you leave a hotel, do you take the soap?”
“What?”
“Do you take the soap that you used?” he asked. “It’s a simple question.”
She remembered trembling. She knew where he was going with it, but like an idiot, she answered, because she kind of couldn’t believe it. “N-no.”
“Then why do you imagine I would take you with me?”
Shock settled over her like a haze. Her grief had been warm, but her shock was cold. Angry.
“Why would I ever do that?” he’d asked.
Narrated By Romy Nordlinger / Length: 10 hrs and 41 mins