At nineteen, the biting November air was a cruel companion on our porch, mirroring the chill that had just slammed shut the door…
The sound was so faint, Emily almost missed it. She should have missed it. It was 11 PM on a Tuesday, the air…
The rain wasn’t just rain. It was a cold, heavy sheet, the kind that turned the 1 AM streetlights on the edge of…
Emma Parker was a ghost. By choice. At Ridgeway High, she was the girl who mastered the art of non-existence. She lived in…
It was just after ten on a Tuesday morning, and the sunlight pouring through the windows of the Oakhaven Diner felt like a…
He was just a tiny dot on the endless asphalt, a three-year-old boy in filthy, torn clothes, wandering alone on the side of…
The sound came first. A low, rhythmic thwack-slap… thwack-slap on the polished linoleum of the school hallway. It was the sound of shame.…
The slap was so sudden, so sharp, it seemed to suck all the air out of the cabin. It wasn’t just a tap;…
It was supposed to be just another walk home. Just another Tuesday. The air was crisp, carrying the first real bite of autumn,…
It was 12:01 AM at St. Mary’s Hospital in Indiana, a Tuesday night so cold the automatic doors seemed to groan in protest.…