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“Over the years, the folly’s stones had collected enough tantrums, sobs, anger, and threats of vengeance to power a war. Every sister made wild statements at the folly, beat her chest, declared desires to murder, then went back home, exhausted and diminished. The circle never varied: the house, the folly, the house, the folly, as if they were trapped in an infinite, inescapable loop.” — Isabel Tutaine
Over the years, the folly’s stones had collected enough tantrums, sobs, anger, and threats of vengeance to power a war. Every sister made wild statements at the folly, beat her chest, declared desires to murder, then went back home, exhausted and diminished. The circle never varied: the house, the folly, the house, the folly, as if they were trapped in an infinite, inescapable loop.