The Prescotts Thought My Uniform Was Decorative

A bare bulb swung from a cord. Agent Cobb told me not to touch the rail, so I held my hands at my sides like a recruit getting inspected. The steps were narrow and damp at the edges.

At the bottom sat a concrete room with shelves along one wall. Old paint cans. Pool chemicals. A broken wicker chair. A refrigerator not plugged in.

On the floor, near the continue reading …