" Later in the evening we went to see what there was to eat and I was awestruck. There wasn't an inch of space left on the tabletop or any of the counters; it had all been taken over by multi-colored crockery. The air smelled roasted. 'Uh... I've never seen anything like this before,' I said, grabbing at a pile of note cards before they slipped onto the floor. But when I looked at Snow, I caught her finishing a yawn.

'Me either,' she said. 'Isn't it kind of everyone?' I didn't answer her. She started reading some of the notecards with a really touched expression, but I'd caught her. She was used to being treated like this. It was nothing to her. I had a moment of hating her, or at least realizing why Mom did. Thankfully it came and went really quickly, like a dizzy spell, or a three-second blizzard. Does she know she does this to people? Dumb question. We do this to her. "

― Helen Oyeyemi , Boy, Snow, Bird