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“If all we've got to look forward to is disloyalty and treachery, why do we even make friends?"
"Again, human nature. Hoping for the best is what drives us.”
― Gena Showalter, Intertwined

“He turned, throwing over hi shoulder, ”And if he growls at you, even once, he’s out. He looks wild.��
I am, Riley snapped inside her head.
Do not laugh, she thought to herself.
Her dad paused at the door. “Where does it stay while you’re at school?��
It. Nice. “Outside.��
“You could be inviting flees into our home, Mary Ann.��
No. Laughing. “He’s clean, Dad. I swear. But if I spot a single little bug, I’ll bathe him.��
That could prove interesting, Riley said.”
― Gena Showalter, Unraveled

“The witch's hair was too short and too dark for blond. She wasn't sure if that relieved her or disturbed her.
Riley had immediately begun his interrogation, and it had gone something like this:
Riley: Where is the meeting between your kind and Aden Stone supposed to take place?
Witch: Go suck yourself.
Riley: Maybe later. Meeting?
Witch: Enjoy death.
Riley: I have once already. Now, decide to talk or lose a body part.
Witch: May I recommend a finger?
Riley: Sure. After I take one of your very necessary hands.”
― Gena Showalter, Unraveled

“This other Alice, this Wonderland Alice, on the other side of the glass, was someone very different.
She had dark hair, for one; stringy, long, unkempt. The rest of her features were hard to distinguish because a thick, ratty white blindfold was tied around her head. Streaked and streaming down her cheeks from beneath it was thick black blood. Her lips were cracked and also bleeding, her bare neck and shoulders smudged with dirt.
Alice swallowed. She had never seen anything like it. Even at the theater the blood was bright red and flowed easily and didn't cake up so. This was not a tableau; this was not fake blood. It was all too real- like something out of a scene of war, of a horror story, of a nightmare worse than any Alice ever had.
And then the picture moved.
Suddenly the other Alice was either screaming or grinning- impossible to tell which with her teeth outlined in more blood, her lips pulled away from them. She was holding up a banner that was delicately penned despite the poverty of her apparent surroundings.


MERRY UNBIRTHDAY ”
― Liz Braswell, Unbirthday

“She recalled something about the White Rabbit, the one who had started everything. He never let her catch him. And he didn't even seem to see Alice as a distinct human being: he always confused her with someone named Mary Ann. That girl seemed to be his servant, and responsible for the white gloves he was constantly missing.
Was this she? Was this Mary Ann?”
― Liz Braswell, Unbirthday