Gillian Flynn - igen
"His mom couldn´t run the farm right - somehow she was screwing it up. She´d take a load of wheat over to the elevator in a borrowed truck and get nothing - less than what it cost to grow it - and whatever money she did get, she owed.
The wolves are at the door, his mom always said, and when he was younger, he pictured her leaning out the back door, throwing crisp green cash at pack of hounds, them snapping it up like it was meat.
It was never enough."
Nyfikenheten på Flynn börjar infinna sig :) Horn knuffande till mitt lässpår något så nu hittar jag inte riktigt rätt i läsningen längre