"During advisory at the end of the day, while Mr. Mater drones on about a student council food drive and tryouts for the upcoming musical, I count three news teams on the school’s front lawn, waiting to ambush me the second I walk out the doors."
"When the intruder triggered the motion-sensitive security lights in his son and daughter-in-law’s backyard just after 2:00 a.m., seventy-four-year-old in-somniac Vincent Lyle was doing what he was always doing at that unforgiving hour; namely, sitting in the conservatory trying and failing to read Jonathan Franzen’s novel The Corrections."
"“Well, boys,” Steve McClendon began, “I think we all know why you’re here.”"
