The Rebirth of Veronica Draper

"A win," Betty said, "as your father would say, is not a loss."

Veronica let a small smile creep to the edges of her lips. "He was profound."

Betty let out a snort then looked at Veronica's machine. She pointed at the wheels. "That, daughter, is a win."

Veronica let her gaze go from her mother to her machine. The three black bars didn't portray "win" to her in the same way that her mother suggested. They looked more like three black marks, three strikes against her for even thinking a trip to the casino with her mother would be a positive thing. It had been three weeks since they buried Dad in the Mt. Pisgah Cemetery, three weeks since her own daughter, Amber, had told her of her "problem," three weeks since she heard from the courts that the judge had postponed the child custody trial once again.

Three weeks.

Three black marks.

Three bars.

--From The Rebirth of Veronica Draper

Veronica Draper has a problem. Three problems, actually: her mother, her daughter and herself. Somewhere lost in that triad is a way to dig herself out of the mess she's in and find peace. But where can peace be found in a town struggling to cope with avarice, greed and sloth? How, in death, is there life?