Series: You're lucky we're even letting you sleep here, my older sister Clara said, wiping down the marble counter in our late mother's Charleston kitchen.

Part 1 Her husband leaned against the doorframe, sipping coffee from my father’s mug like he already owned every brick of the house. I dried [more…]

The heavy coastal rain lashed against the overgrown palmetto trees, rattling their fronds. I kept to the shadows of the ancient oak that leaned over [more…]

I walked into the kitchen, rain still clinging to my clothes. Marcus stood by the counter, holding the key ring loosely in his hand. His [more…]

The sunporch couch was thin and scratchy, a poor substitute for my own bed. The old screen door rattled every time the wind picked up, [more…]

A sharp rapping on the front door jolted me awake. It was still dark, the pre-dawn glow barely etching the horizon. I peeled my eyes [more…]

The fluorescent lights of the Charleston municipal clerk’s office hummed over my head. It was my lunch period, and the sterile air felt a million [more…]

I returned to the municipal clerk’s office after school, this time heading directly to the tax assessor’s desk. The building felt colder in the afternoon, [more…]

The public library was quiet, the only sounds the soft click of keyboards and the hushed turning of pages. I sat at a computer, surrounded [more…]

The sound of a car crunching on the gravel driveway broke the silence. Headlights swept across the kitchen window, then died. Footsteps on the porch, [more…]

Clara continued to stare at the stack of documents, her face a mask of disbelief. Marcus stood frozen behind her, his mouth slightly open, a [more…]