I didn't point out the snapping-turtle pond between Raylou's workspace and our sliding glass door, for fear that my mother, who had suicidal tendencies, might dive in.

There was no time to panic among cries sound, has been charged in the inlet.

Michael demands to know where Lincoln is... and drags her to the bathroom, turns on the bathtub faucet, and prepares to dunk her head under the water.