As I merged onto the highway, a sense of relief washed over me, mixing with the lingering hesitance in

“Mom, I have a fever… can I stay home from school today?” the girl asked. Her mother touched her forehead

The dust swirled around the worn wheels of the old Chevrolet truck as it pulled up to the modest farmhouse

My name is Marilyn Brooks. I am sixty-eight years old, and exactly three days after I watched my husband’s

Caroline got a job as a cleaning lady in New York and went to her first assignment. It was a beautiful

The chandeliers at the Oceanside Resort in Southern California glittered like captured starlight, throwing

For three stunned heartbeats I just stood there in the middle of Chicago O’Hare, surrounded by rolling

The cold rain had already soaked through Emily Carter’s coat by the time her husband, Ryan, slammed the

I called my parents to tell them my husband had died. “We’re busy,” my mother said, “it’s your sister’s birthday.

Some stories are so painful to tell that they feel like a wound being reopened every time the words leave