# She Was Buried Beneath the Snow. He Was Buried Beneath the Truth.

noise that night.

Streetlights were only yellow smudges in the blizzard, parked cars had become soft white lumps, and the sidewalks were buried without a trace.

The wind cut through every seam of my clothes, and each breath returned as a thin cloud before vanishing.

I kept walking because stopping felt more dangerous.

My name is Thomas Avery, and I was continue reading …