Self finished Shards of Earth after four days of staying-home-all-day and not-changing-out-of-pajamas, four days of asking herself HOLY COW is-this-the-best-space-opera-she-has-EVER-read–or-what and how–is-jug-eared-Idris-Telemmier-the-hottest-space-hero-of-all-time?
Plague, self’s current read, is giving her plenty of reason to reflect on January 6 Committee Hearings drama.
How was it fair? Caine was a liar, a manipulator, a murderer. And Caine was probably lying in satin sheets with Diana eating actual food and watching a DVD. Clean sheets, candy bars, and a wonderful, willing girl.
Caine who had never done a single good or decent thing was living in luxury.
Sam, who had tried and tried and done everything he could, was sitting in his house with a raging headache, smelling vomit with a pair of ibuprofen burning a hole in his stomach lining.
— Plague, A Gone Novel, by Michael Grant, p. 39