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

blinked red.

My pulse beat once in my ear.

“Tonight,” the moderator said, “for the first time anywhere, we are honored to welcome that author to the stage.”

Graham did not look at me.

He was too busy watching the curtain.

Celeste sat taller.

She hugged my novel against her stomach as if proximity could become ownership.

The moderator turned toward the wings.continue reading …