— It's my fault, you know.
— What?
— His leaving. I thought I could take it.
— Don't ever say that.
— What?
— Just don't ever low-rate yourself.
— What I meant was, whatever it takes to be a cop's wife... I'm just not sure I'm making it. He really tries, and these bastards... you know, «pig» this, «pig» that.
Stay in the force long enough and it feels like you've just got a choice between dying a hero or becoming a monster!
— I'm sorry. Why wouldn't they look for a woman who tried to kill all of you last Thanksgiving?
— Oh, daddy didn't tell you? He didn't report it to the cops. Instead, he paid to lock her up in a loony bin. Don't worry, they had crafts.