I remember the day Dean and I found this gem. A ninety-two-year-old farmhouse out of a fairytale novel, me round with Sarah soon to make us three. We signed, moved in, and soon enough these old
“Do you still think of her?” Alyson’s words were soft, their tender touch relaxing to Robert. He continued to fidget, his fingers juggling the same emptiness that had filled his thoughts.
Reuben watched her from a distance. He knew better than to disturb Mara when she was out on the rocks. He hated himself for it. The reason she sat out there and wailed the night away. The fog was
The wind blasts Brian’s face and bites through his hoodie. South Texas rarely gets cold, but today looms rare indeed. Home lingers twenty minutes away, but he slows his pace. His gut churns with
“Stay here.” Those were the last words she said to me before she risked the shopping market. And so, I am quietly hunched in the nearby bushes like a newborn fawn. We had been on the run for what