The Storm We Made

by Vanessa Chan

“Isn’t every man a good man and a bad man?” Cecily asked. “That seems like an unnecessary riddle.” “Cecily.” The corners of Fujiwara’s thin mouth curved upward. “This is what I like best about you. I am a dreamer; you are always practical.”

“Freddie, do you come get me every night?” he asked. “Always,” said Freddie.