“Hades cracked his knuckles on each hand, and the noise was like gunpowder caps exploding in the silence. "First dish duty," he mumbled to himself, "now possessed cowboys. This just isn't my night.”

“He shook his head again. “I’m afraid I don’t feel much of anything these days. Especially not hope. I have no time or energy to waste on false wishes and dreams that won’t come true.”“Hope isn’t about ignorant wishing.” She surprised even herself with herdefensive backlash. “Hope is about believing—believing there are betterthings in store for us if we just wait for them. It’s about understanding we’re not left completely on our own here, regardless of the way things appear.”Lamont snorted. “That ain’t much for a body to go on.”“Perhaps not, but I reckon it’s enough. Sometimes it’s gotta be, anyhow.Without hope, what would drive one onward?”He was silent for a long moment before he looked up and met her eyes.His own eyes displayed no emotion when he answered in a weary, grimtone, “Fear.” He took a drink and fell silent again as she quietly scrutinized him, attempting to discern in his haggard face the thoughts behind what he had said.”

“Hades cracked his knuckles on each hand, and the noise was like gunpowder caps exploding in the silence. "First dish duty," he mumbled to himself, "now possessed cowboys. This just isn't my night.”