Alice and Mick sat at the dining table, still cluttered with cereal bowls from breakfast, but neither of them cared. The table, usually reserved for...
I see them. I burn. She dares defile my pages with her wretched scrawl. The deranged human thinks she is a match for me. Me? She believes her ink can...
They sat at Alice’s kitchen table with the book. After the shock of the night before, they’d driven to her house because neither of them wanted to be...