The Darkest Flower (Allison Barton, #1)

by Kristin Wright

Few things irritated me more than not being appreciated, and I spent most of my hours doing amazing things no one appreciated.

Few people had my skill at finding out all about people online—kind of a hobby of mine. Knowing who you’re dealing with is the best way to keep the upper hand in any relationship.

When hunting big game, don’t waste ammunition on small birds, my daddy used to say.

Picking up a child at the actual school release time was a wholly different affair. A line of cars snaked through the parking lot, with adorable ponytailed mothers at the wheel interspersed with an occasional grandparent. I stared with wonder. What lives did these people have that they were available to wait in this line for forty-five minutes at three in the afternoon every day?

I didn’t know how much longer she’d let me hold her hand in public, but I hoped it would be forever. Nothing felt better.