My stepmother called me at the end of the day, her voice so smug I could practically hear the smile on her lips, and told me that from now on I would never be allowed to set foot in the family beach house again because she had already changed every
lock. By the time Diana Crawford’s smile finally slipped, I had already learned one of the hardest truths of adulthood: people like her only seem powerful as long as everyone around them keeps pretending. She was smiling when I arrived at the beach house just after sunrise. The sky was washed in pale blue-gray, stretching … Read more