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

a cage and named himself the locksmith.

Mara’s pen moved to a paragraph near the bottom.

“This is what he needed for the bank, and possibly for a guardianship petition.”

Margot swore softly.

Celeste’s face changed.

“Guardianship?”

Mara looked at her.

“You didn’t know that either?”

Celeste pressed her fingers to her lips.

For once, she had no polished answer.continue reading …