The Secrets We Kept

by Lara Prescott

Bev was the kind of woman whose beauty came late, passing over her high school years, college years, and early twenties entirely, only to arrive in her late twenties and not reach its full glory until her thirties.

It was a hard truth, knowing he no longer owned his words once they were in the world. Once published, they were available for anyone to claim, even a madman.

Anger is a poor replacement for sadness; like cotton candy, the sweetness of revenge disintegrates immediately.