"It sometimes seems..." Erin said, a little slowly, "that being liked and being good don't mean a thing to each other. Or maybe I'm just wrong and broken. I like too many bad people. I should be happy. I should be happy more than anything, but sometimes I just feel so twisted and wrong."
"You're my friend," Erin murmured. "You gave me a job when no one else wanted me, you were so kind to me. I just am no good with faith... and it is hard to understand this place, sometimes... you'll tell me, if I go bad?"