Where They Lie (Nora McTavish, #1)

by Joe Hart

“Doing nothing is always doing something.”

We’re told a life without pain is ideal. To avoid suffering as much as possible. But pain is where you grow. We cry with our first breaths because it hurts to expel amniotic fluid and take in air. No transition occurs without pain. It’s why liminal spaces are uniform and ambiguous—to lull before the change. Before the pain.

When I called her a while back and told her what Frank had done—was still doing—know what she said? ‘Just leave.’ Like it’s as simple as that.” She laughed, and it sounded like the wine was doing its job. “Leave. I’ve got a mortgage, a job. No car. Sam has school. How are we supposed to just leave? She’s never lived paycheck to paycheck. Never took a punch from someone she loved. But, you know . . . just leave.” She whispered the last two words.