Fiona’s Reviews > The Reformatory > Status Update
Fiona
is on page 22 of 601
On Florida soil, sometimes killing broke out for its own reasons. Florida’s soil is soaked with so much blood, it’s a wonder the droplets don’t seep between your toes with every step, Mama used to say. Sometimes when Gloria walked along McCormack Road, she thought she heard whimpers beneath her footsteps. She wondered if blood turned the muddy clay roads in Gracetown the stubborn red-orange color
— Mar 14, 2026 04:28PM
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Fiona
is on page 304 of 601
Robert finished the rest of the math in his head: that meant two boys died a year. At least. “Now, before you get the wrong idea,” Warden Haddock said, stern again, “those numbers got jiggered way up by the fire. One fire in 1920 killed twenty-five boys. It’s the biggest tragedy in the history of this county. Maybe worst in the state. I don’t know of any tragedy worse, do you?”
— 11 hours, 8 min ago
Fiona
is on page 155 of 601
But despite the heat—or maybe because of it—Robert’s sore, weary bones sank into the thin mattress and made him so drowsy that he didn’t notice the return of the terrible smell for a long time. And when he did notice, he thought he was only remembering the shower room. But then the sharpness seared his nostrils—burned, rancid flesh—and Robert jolted awake.
— Mar 17, 2026 03:20PM
Fiona
is on page 66 of 601
Maybe he was only smelling smoke because it was summer, when things that weren’t real had a smell, or a taste. Or made strange sounds. Usually, children’s summer sights and smells went away if you ignored them. That was how Gloria said it was for her, before she got too old to notice them as much. Summertime was when the haints came out.
— Mar 15, 2026 02:51PM
