While rushing home, I caught my tiny children abandoned in the woods, injured and unrecognizable. I burst into my parents’ house yelling, “What did you do?!” My sister coldly replied, “You lost your rights.” Before I could react, my dad choked me out. Then, my phone rang with a call from the ICU…

with the mounting dread. Maybe Curtis is showing them his antique tools in the garage. But the air felt entirely too still. Familiarity breeds a dangerous brand of complacency. When destruction wears the comforting mask of home, you rarely see the teeth until they are already at your throat.

Then, the shadows near the dense tree line at the edge of continue reading …