The Lawn Worker Heard Crying in My Basement and I Knew Something Was Wrong

the tray toward the basement stairs while something tightened in my chest and I said nothing.

What if Felicia had never left?

I sat up hard in the dark, the room tilting. I gripped the mattress and grabbed my phone and opened my notes and started writing it all down in a list because listing things was how I had always processed crisis, how the cockpit continue reading …