Emma Parker was a ghost. By choice. At Ridgeway High, she was the girl who mastered the art of non-existence. She lived in…
Sara sat on a small concrete bench bordering the park, her gaze lost somewhere in the gray afternoon as she hugged her arms…
It was just after ten on a Tuesday morning, and the sunlight pouring through the windows of the Oakhaven Diner felt like a…
The rain didn’t stop. By the time the first gray, watery light of dawn filtered through the trailer’s grimy windows, the world outside…
The autumn sky stretched over Los Angeles, a heavy blanket of gray that seemed to mirror the weight in Eleenor Whitmore’s heart. As…
The Myth of the Librarian I remember one night in particular, just a year before my father passed. Mark announced he’d closed 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…
Golden light from Loro’s chandeliers bathed table 12, where Senator Whitmore remained blissfully unaware that his dinner bill had been inflated by $300.…
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;…