“What’s a girl like you doing in a cheap joint like this?”

It was a consolation prize on your sister’s ninth birthday, when you were still young enough to think that presents for one meant presents for all...

There is never any light in my farmhouse...

Cold, brown, disinterested eyes flick over mine briefly...

 “I adore you,” I repeat...

Manlio Vargas and his wife had a contract with a certain family...

Margaret bustled into the room, rattling off numbers from her clipboard...

You’ll feel a pinch, then a burn...