Their own names were taken, erased, but they have them back now. The iron is hot from the burning flame. The skin will flush red after, the dermis deep enough to easily slough off. 

Hush and you can hear them lurking, waiting for the day they can make their return.

I can be her friend and still criticize her sometimes.

She stared at the camera, knowing the longer she stared the lober Jesse was looking back at her ... it was just the two of them.

Roots mean something to these people, even if the core is rotted.

What if we clamored and yelled, fought in every way we could? And what if we weren't alone? What if it was all of us together rising? Can you image it? Can you imagine what we could do?

They think they're absolved from the past, but it's their past too. All our lives havve been shaped by it, but they're the ones who've ignored how, even though the past has made them who they are.

Mira saw the history of her people, of this country, of all the violence forgotten and ignored. It was here again. No, it was always here.