“The monsters — not monsters — will share their secrets. You’ll learn that needle-thin bones, when crushed into a fine paste and stirred into the twenty glasses of water you were going to drink today, taste like lemonade. And you can have a sip for only the cost of the rest of your life left worshipping the feeling of hollow, searching up number and number and dead girl and number. You, too, can spend the rest of the day smelling of what you just had to scrub off the bathroom floor.”