The Yacht Trip, The Memorial, And The Gift They Never Expected

staircase, one hand trailing along the varnished rail for support, the other pressed against the wall. The yacht dipped and rose beneath me, the swell of the ocean amplified by my drugged equilibrium and growing terror. I counted my steps—eight to the corner, six to the base of the stairs—because numbers calmed me. Numbers always had. They were solid continue reading …