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Quote by Farrah Rochon

“Mama Odie had been willing to help both Tiana and Naveen the year before. Hopefully, she would be willing to do so again. Please. Please. Please. The strangeness of having to rely on someone else for help struck Tiana anew. She knew she was independent to a fault. She had lost count of how many times she had wasted hours---sometimes even days---toiling away at some task or another, refusing to ask for help.”

Quote by Farrah Rochon

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Almost There

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Farrah Rochon

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“Mamá. I have spent my entire life doing what is right. I went to church every Sunday, I worked in the fields, I got straight A's in school, I went to college and commuted home to save on bills and preserve my reputation, and I even raised enough money to buy the farm so I could take care of the family. But now, I want some freedom because I've earned it. I don't want to be courted and married to some man I don't even know if I'm compatible with. I don't even know if I want to get married. Ever. It's fine if Blanca feels comfortable preserving this tradition--- but I don't. Not even if it makes you happy." Mamá's eyes bugged, and she yelled at her eldest daughter. "You will not disrespect me in my house!" Carolina laughed. "Well, it's my house, actually. But that's fine. I don't need it." Blanca's jaw dropped. "Cari! Stop." "No. I should've done this years ago." Carolina turned and walked toward the living room. "Carolina! Get back here at once!" her mom called out, but she didn't respond. Enrique was sitting at the dining room table, wringing his hands, his forehead wrinkled, his fists clenched. Her father had him cornered. "So, Enrique, do you see yourself married in the next year?" Being interrogated by Papá was something Carolina wouldn't wish on her worst enemy. "Enrique, let's go." Enrique's brows raised as he stood. "Where?" Carolina looked at her father, then back to Enrique, then back to her father. She had created this fake relationship as a ruse to keep her family happy. What she was about to do would instead possibly tear them apart--- but it had to be done. Enrique had made her want things she hadn't really wanted with another man before. There was no going back. The time was now. "Out on a real date.”

“After stepping out of bed, she got dressed, slipping on her new patchwork dress and enjoying the feel of the soft cotton against her cloth skin. She'd sewed it together out of fabric she'd found in the dumpster--- the remnants of old and discarded costumes--- and was pretty proud of how it had come out. Christmas clothing was cute and all, but Abigail had been right--- it was extremely itchy. Not to mention a little boring. No dress should be limited to just one pattern or color, she thought with a smile. Which was why her new shop's name was so perfect: Patterns and Potions by Sally.”

“Somewhere, I heard the phrase, ‘When money talks, no one checks the grammar.’ That’s what all this was about—money, money, and more money. For money, girls sacrificed their own lives; for money, they risked sexually transmitted diseases; for money, they were willing to step beyond their convictions. For money, the agency treated us like trash thrown on the street; for money, they were willing to risk our health, safety, and everything else, and for money, they had a few select girls they treated decently. It was never about people, morals, or decency.”