I’m Stella, thirty-two years old, and I’m standing in my driveway in a quiet American suburb with everything I own crammed into one…
“Open the door! This house is my husband’s!” Rebecca’s voice tore through the heavy wood of my front door like lightning. It was…
“You either give my wife your room or pack your bags.” My son Paul shouted those words right in the middle of dinner,…
“While I distract her, you go over to her place and change the locks.” Those words reached my ears like a poisonous whisper…
As a sixty-four-year-old woman, I ended up hiding in my neighbor’s house, spying on my own home in a quiet Los Angeles suburb…
“Mom, try this cup of chocolate. I made it just for you.” My daughter handed me a mug of hot chocolate, smiling sweetly.…
We were at The Crest Room, an upscale restaurant overlooking the bay in San Diego, California. White tablecloths imported from Italy, crystal glasses…
My name is Beatrice Peterson, and I am sixty-five years old. I’ve lived most of my life in Texas, in the Dallas–Fort Worth…
My name is Mila Reyes. I am thirty‑three years old, and on a Tuesday at 4:17 in the afternoon, my career at…