But when the air suddenly filled with the screaming sirens, when the oncoming night suddenly burned red and blue with the cruisers' lights, everyone froze in place, startled. Mustache-Man. Blockhead. Blond Killer. The shadows all around. Everyone froze.
Everyone but me.
-pg. 33
Her name was Iole Dallamano. She spoke softly and slowly. She didn't seem afraid of the scalpel in Rosa's hand.
She was fifteen but looked younger, in spite of the shadows under her sad eyes. Her black hair was cut short. One of the men who regularly came here had done that, she said. Otherwise they hadn't touched her. Every few months, when her hair was long again, one of them chopped it short. Iole had asked them why they didn't cut her throat right away, but they never answered that question. -- pg. 91
I stumbled out from under the archway on to the sprawling green. The sun blinded me and I wanted to punch it in the face. And thinking that made me giggle. Then my giggle turned into a cackle. Soon, I was laughing so hard tears streamed down my face. My neck felt wet and I was out of breath and I dropped to the ground beneath a tree at the far corner of the campus laughing madly and twisting on the grass, gripping my sides because the hurt, damn it, but it was just so funny.
Out of nowhere, a hand gripped my shoulder and folded me up into a sitting position. I looked up. -- pg. 312