The Knock Came Before I Could Dial 911

It wasn’t some accident a frightened child could have been taught to explain.

Low on her back, half hidden by the water and the curve of her small shoulder, was a mark made by fire. Three letters. One number. Beneath them, a crooked little cross burned into her skin.

The sponge slipped from my hand and fell into the water with a soft splash.

Clara turned continue reading …