“My name is Mary Katherine Blackwood. I am eighteen years old, and I live with my sister Constance. I have often thought that with any luck at all I could have been born a werewolf, because the two middle fingers on both my hands are the same length, but I have had to be content with what I had.”
″‘Don’t you ever want to leave here, Merricat?’
‘Where could we go?’ I asked her. ‘What place would be better for us than this? Who wants us, outside? The world is full of terrible people.‘”