I still feel cold. Even now, all these years later, when a bad storm hits, when the wind howls just right and rattles…
The neon hum of the ‘Anchor Point’ sign was a lie. It buzzed pink and electric over the door, promising a good time,…
That day, the air at Fort Jackson hung thick and still, heavy with the kind of oppressive quiet that only comes from shared…
Emma Parker was the invisible girl at Ridgeway High, always in oversized sweaters, head down, unnoticed. She sat alone, spoke softly, and blended…
Prologue: The Air The air in the house on Santa Ana Drive wasn’t just old. It was wrong. It was a physical weight…
Seattle has a way of tricking you. It offers up a Saturday morning so flawless, so impossibly perfect, it feels like a personal…
It was 5:15 PM. I shouldn’t have been home. My last project meeting, a budget review that was supposed to be a three-hour…
It was a flicker in my peripheral vision, a shadow of dark, funereal chiffon moving against the sea of pale pinks and creams…
It was a Sunday morning, the kind that blurs into all the others on the open road. Inside the Denny’s, the air hung…
She buried her face in my scrubs, and a sob finally ripped out of her, a sound she had clearly been holding in…