She Was Sitting In My Front-Row Seat Holding My Novel — Smiling Like She Had Stolen My Life

My name was on that seat in black letters.

Evelyn Pierce.

Front row.

Center aisle.

Close enough to see the water rings beneath the crystal glasses onstage.

Close enough for the cameras to catch my face when the moderator introduced the most mysterious author in America.

Close enough for Graham to believe he had chosen the perfect place to break me.

The Rutherford continue reading …