" With every step she became more and more convinced that she was doing something right, for once. The black bead in her omeh seemed less a burden and more a statement of fact. She was different. There was no getting around that. But she was tired of people telling her she needed to feel ashamed of who she was. Perhaps Good Luck and Bad Luck were just the same thing, like spirals of ambient, traveling in opposite directions, balancing each other out. "

― J.D. Lakey , Bhotta’s Tears (Black Bead Chronicles #2)