By two p.m., the neighborhood was a grid of heat, the air thick with cut grass, sunscreen, and the smokey haze of barbecue. At the far end of the block, three houses down from Beth’s, the white ranch house with perfect black shutters presided over a rectangle of turquoise pool. The only relief was found in the intermittent shade cast by a row of maturing birches, leaves silvered by the sun. Even the bugs seemed too lethar...

The atmosphere in the gallery buzzed with a sense of freshness and anticipation, carrying a whisper of creativity unfolding. Track lighting lined the ceiling. Adjustable. Precise. Jim moved between Jen's paintings with ease, angling each beam to create pools of light and shadow that transformed flat canvas into living dimension. "Watch the angle here." Jim's voice carried across the chaotic space. A cluster of art student...

The cool summer breeze felt soothing as afternoon heat filled the small writing studio. It was a welcome distraction from the sheet of paper with the dangling last sentence and mocking blank space that followed. Dangling sentences he could handle. Mocking pushed him over the edge. It was a sign to take a break, shift gears, change focus. Sometimes he switched to a different story. Sometimes he worked in the garden. Whatev...

Emma felt her pulse pounding. The after effects of her orgasm still rippled through her body as she focused on the cane in Zoï's hands, catching light, rattan gleaming like honey. Those silver eyes had changed. No longer the vulnerable girl who'd bent for her moments ago. Something else looked back. Older. Knowing. The shift happened between one breath and the next. "I can't." The words came out cracked. Emma's legs tremb...

The silence pressed in, heavy and thick. Emma’s confession still lingered between them. Her body vibrated with it, the ache, the memory, the need. The shift in Zoï was subtle but obvious. One moment, her shoulders sloped and her voice danced through the air; the next, she straightened, chin rising, the music in her words gone, replaced by something steady, deliberate. Emma caught it, the precision of the movement, the way...

The name hit me like a slap, sudden and bright. Sarah. I hadn't said it in years. Hadn't dared. The memories were supposed to be buried, packed down beneath the present, invisible. But Zoï was there, holding me steady with her eyes, waiting. Somehow, she knew. “How?” My voice was thin, too fragile. “How do you know that name?” Zoï’s hands, cool against my cheeks, reminded me where I was. "I don't know her. But I feel her...

The Pub filled slowly in winter. San Francisco cold was different than England’s, but not by much. The chill seemed to settle into everything, making bones ache. Emma moved behind the bar, efficient in her routine. She wiped the mahogany, set coasters along the polished wood, checked the shine of the brass fixtures she’d already polished earlier that day. Her motions were always the same: wiping the bar in slow, clockwise...

A hand on her shoulder pulled Riann from dreamless sleep. Mikal's silhouette loomed above her, dark against a greater dark. She blinked, disoriented, the previous night's events washing over her. Cougar scream. Naked walk to the studio. Kneeling before him. His arms carrying her back to bed. Without speaking, he placed a folded bundle of clothes beside her, his fingertips grazing her bare arm. The brief contact sent elect...

Late afternoon sun baked the intersection of a little-used dirt road and an even lesser-used two-track. Both disappeared into the vastness of the Nevada high desert. Sagebrush dotted the terrain, silver-green against red dirt. Stands of juniper clung to rocky outcroppings, twisted and stunted by wind and drought. In the distance, jagged mountains cut a serrated edge against a too-blue sky. Beautiful in its harshness. Brut...

The knock came at noon. Three sharp raps that made Beth's coffee mug pause halfway to her lips. She wasn't expecting anyone. The kids were still at Toby's. Her scheduled session with Karen wasn't until seven. She padded to the door in bare feet. Through the peephole, Karen stood on the porch. Immaculate in fitted jeans and a light blouse. Her expression unreadable. Beth's stomach flipped. She opened the door, aware sudden...

Monday morning arrived in a pale haze, the kind of light that made everything look unfinished. Karen let herself into Beth’s house with the spare key she’d been given months ago for emergencies. This seemed to qualify. The living room smelled of stale wine and something else, despair, maybe. Or just neglect. Two empty wine bottles stood sentry on the coffee table beside a plate with the crusts of a peanut butter sandwich....

Morning light streamed through the kitchen windows of Jen's bungalow, painting the worn wooden countertops with stripes of gold. The house held the particular quietness of early day, that suspended moment before the world fully woke. Jen moved with ease, laying out the materials for her portfolio review while her body hummed with a pleasant undercurrent of energy. Since Jim arrived, she'd found herself perpetually aware o...

Kaitlin walked alone beneath the full autumn moon, her shadow stretching long and sharp across the sidewalk. The silver light transformed the familiar college town streets into something ethereal, casting everything in shades of black and pearl. With each step away from Jen's house, she felt the evening's events settling into her bones, changing her in ways she couldn't yet articulate. Behind her, she knew, Jim and her mo...

The key glided smoothly into the lock with a familiar feel. Kaitlin pushed open the door to her childhood home, the creak of the hinges stirring memories that lived in the walls and floorboards. She stepped inside, letting her bag slide from her shoulder to rest against the entryway table. From where she stood, Kaitlin could see her mother sitting on a wooden stool in the living room, bent over a sketchbook. Jen hadn't he...

Jen sat cross-legged on her living room floor, surrounded by a sea of canvases, sketches, and scattered art supplies. Her hands trembled slightly as she tried to select the right pieces for her show. Four days before her thesis defense, and she still hadn't selected which pieces would make the final cut. The pressure of the upcoming days weighed on her, a constant background static that made focusing impossible. Art mater...