What's your name, son?' Sam said. The man looked to be about Sam's age, but Sam always thought calling people 'son' immediately gave the air of imperial authority and opened the door for spanking if need be.

There was a sweetness in my voice I found nauseating. I made a note to myself never to have children. Or at least not helpless children.

Who cut him?' Sam liked saying things like 'Who cut him?' It reminded him of being a kid and watching prison movies, which is probably why prisoners talked like that, too.

Sam took another sip of the pruno. It went down smoother this time, possibly because he no longer had feeling in his extremities.

The room fell silent. I frankly didn't know what I was going to do to help Eduardo, but I had the sense that he was right- no one else could help him, and without help, all that he'd done would crumble.

Plus, I like being called his only hope. I felt like Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Some women nodded, others shook their heads. I would have killed myself before I let one of them move into my house.

Would you Helen? Would you really?