I Prayed for a Miracle—Now I Lock My Door at Night

is never peace.

It’s planning.

I crept toward the door and pressed my ear against it. I could hear him in the hallway, muttering to himself. The sound of drawers opening. Cabinets.

Then his voice rose again, like he’d found something that amused him.

“Where’d you put it?” he called, sing-song. “Where’s the stuff? Where’s the sharp stuff?”

My blood went continue reading …