“You're caught." She said. "No better off than I am, but you don't deserve to watch me fail. You showed up uninvited and you took everything from us. You stole our sisters, our parents, our kids. You took the sky, the view, you took day and night. A look across the street. A glance out a window. You've taken a view, every view, and with that, perspective. Who do you think you are, coming here, taking, then siting silent, watching me go mad? I hope you're hurt. I hope you're stuck in here. I hope you get taken from you what you've taken from us. How can I be a mother in this world, your world? How am I supposed to feel, ever, in a world where my kids are allowed to look. They don't know me. My kids. They know a weathered, paranoid woman who cringes at every suggestion they make. They know a woman who says no so many more times than she says yes. A thousand times no. A hundred thousand times no. They know a woman who tells them what they're doing is wrong, every day, all night. I was different before you. My kids will never know that person. I'll never know that person again.”