She was a beautiful girl, but the lack of any spark dampened her prettiness.

Gretchen Lowell was beautiful in a very grown-up way, in a sophisticated, confident way. It was more than beauty; it was the power of beauty. She radiated it.

He had talked to hundreds of witnesses. And he knew that if someone felt pressured, they would try too hard, and their imagination would fill what their memory couldn't recover.

Josie, like Gretchen, isn't afraid of blood. What woman would be?

No duh, Susan said. You are like a walking vault of things you don't tell people. People who have secrets should pay you to hold on to them for them. You could be like a secret bank.

Ugly people kill people all the time. But when pretty people did, it got attention.

Her body was spattered with tiny bits of the reverend’s flesh and blood, like someone had combined shrimp and tomato soup and then forgot to put the lid on the blender.

Robbins had opened Gabby up. Her charred skin was peeled back, and her ribs were removed. She was pink inside, like steak that had been burned on a high heat but remained raw in the middle.

But people in masks were always assholes. It was a scientific law. Give someone anonymity and all social niceties break down. The Internet had proven that.

She lied to me today," Archie said."A teenager?" Susan said with faux surprise. "Lying to an authority figure? Impossible.

They were going to have a conversation, he realized. Archie didn't know a lot about women, but he had been married and he knew when a conversation was coming, and he knew when a woman wanted to have one, the best thing you could do was get it over with.