Tragedy blows through your life like a tornado, uprooting everything. Creating chaos. You wait for the dust to settle and then you choose. You can live in the wreckage and pretend it’s still the mansion you remember. Or you can crawl from the rubble and slowly rebuild.
W: See, there you go with that head tilt thing. You know, you think you’re all bad-ass, but whenever you need something, it’s all [mimics Veronica’s head tilt] “Hey.” V: Just be glad I don’t flip my hair. I’d own you.